Coin blinks. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. "Just the one?"
"I haven't decided about the other yet."
She's flirting.
My little sister is flirting with my friend, and Coin is flirting back, and I should probably feel some kind of way about that but I don't.
I just feel... hopeful.
Leah deserves happiness.
She's spent so many years taking care of everyone else—me, the patients at the hospital, the family she's slowly rebuilding with Vanna.
She deserves someone who sees her.
Someone who appreciates her.
Coin's a good man. The best kind of man. He'd treat her right.
I smirk to myself and keep walking.
Near the pool table, I spot Venus.
She's hanging back from the main party, nursing a drink, watching the room with an expression I can't quite read.
When she sees me looking, she straightens.
Sets her shoulders and walks toward me with purpose.
Here we go.
"Bloodhound." She stops a few feet away, chin lifted, eyes wary. "I wanted to—look, I'm not good at this shit, but I need to say something."
I wait. Give her nothing.
"I was out of line." The words come out stiff, practiced, like she's been rehearsing them. "With Vanna. The things I said, the way I acted when she came back—it wasn't right. I was hurt, and I took it out on her, and that wasn't fair."
"No," I agree. "It wasn't."
Venus flinches, but she doesn't back down. "I'm not asking for anything. I just—I'm glad she's okay. After what happened. I'm glad you got her back."
I study her for a long moment.
Venus has been part of this club for years.
She kept me company during the long, lonely stretch when Vanna was gone—not love, never love, but warmth.
Comfort. Something to hold onto in the dark.
She deserved better than what I gave her.
And Vanna deserved better than the way Venus treated her.
"Thank you," I say finally. "For saying that."
Venus nods once. Then she turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd, and I let her go.
Some wounds take time to heal. Some bridges take time to rebuild. But at least she's trying.
