He sends it, because he's a better person than she deserves, and then he doesn't hear from her for months.
The girls don't talk about her much. Neither does Coin.
But sometimes, in moments like this, I see the ghost of her in his face.
The memory of the woman he loved, before she became someone he didn't recognize.
"Happy birthday!" The room erupts as Wrenleigh reaches the bottom of the stairs, and she laughs—a bright, surprised sound—as her club family swarms her with hugs and well-wishes.
I hang back, watching.
That's my role here.
The quiet observer.
The protector in the shadows.
Vanna catches my eye across the room and smiles.
God, that smile.
It's the same smile she gave me when she was seventeen, running across Mountaineer Field in the dark, daring me to catch her.
The same smile she gave me on our wedding day, standing in that secondhand dress, making promises we were too young to understand.
The same smile she gave me in the hospital, when they confirmed our son was healthy.
When she told me his name.
When she looked at me like I was her whole world, and I realized that she was mine too.
I love that smile.
I'd burn the whole world down to protect that smile.
The party kicks into full swing.
Music pumps through the speakers—some pop stuff I don't recognize, probably whatever sixteen-year-olds are listening to these days.
The prospects have been pressed into service as waiters, carrying trays of food and drinks.
Someone dragged in a photo booth with ridiculous props, and I've already seen Maddox wearing a pink feather boa while Wraith holds up a sign that says "PARTY ANIMAL."
I'll be using that picture as blackmail material for years.
Coin stands up near the cake, tapping his beer bottle with a fork until the room quiets down.
"I'm not good at speeches," he starts, and there's a rumble of agreement from the brothers. He shoots us a glare, but there's no heat in it. "Yeah, yeah. Shut up."
Laughter ripples through the crowd.
"Sixteen years ago, I held a tiny, screaming baby in my arms and thought, 'What the hell do I do now?'" Coin's voice is rough, thick with emotion. "I was twenty-two. I didn't know anything about being a dad. I didn't know anything about anything. But I looked at that little face, and I knew—I knew—I'd spend the rest of my life trying to deserve her."
Wrenleigh's eyes are shining.
Sadie Jo is pressed against her sister's side, holding her hand.
"These past sixteen years haven't been easy." Coin pauses, swallowing hard. "There were times I didn't think I could do it. Times I wondered if I was messing everything up, if my girls would be better off with someone else. Someone who knew what they were doing."
