Raffi was stunned for a second, then the full realization of what this meant hit him. This wasn’t just about telling her sister; it was about letting the people she loved most in the world know that he was important to her. That their relationship was important. After weeks of secrecy, of stolen moments, this felt like a seismic shift. It was trust, and it left him breathless. In an instant, he scooped her into his arms, then cradled her face as he kissed her long and deep.
They were interrupted by a voice saying, “Wow, okay. I guess we’re skipping the explanations and going straight to the PDA. Nice.”
Talar stood there, hands on her hips, sizing him up. Raffilet go of Ani entirely, but then she grabbed his hand and held it.
“Explanations, right. Talar, meet my boyfriend. Raffi.”
Talar’s eyebrow raised so high, Raffi was actually impressed.
“You can’t—this is—we talked about this, Ani.”
Talar was the first person they told about their relationship, and it was off to a harrowing start. He supposed he deserved this, though. After everything he’d done, all the damage he’d caused, shouldn’t he feel some shame? Shouldn’t his bad behavior bite him back? He just wished Ani didn’t have to get hurt in the crossfire.
But when Ani squeezed his hand, Raffi’s anger and fears ebbed. In her touch, he felt her steadiness, her quiet conviction. She wasn’t shaken. She could handle a few probing questions—because what they had was worth it. The two of them, together as one, were strong.
“Raffi and I have spent a lot of time together. A lot.” She looked at him meaningfully, and damn if that didn’t hit him right in the chest. A lot of time? And it wasn’t enough. He wanted more—more of her quiet mornings and her loud opinions, more of the way she made him feel like he was the only person in the room, even when they were surrounded by people. He wanted to be the one she turned to when the world got too heavy, the one who made her laugh when she didn’t think she could.
His thoughts were interrupted by Ani’s voice, steady and sure, like a beacon. “Whatever you heard, maybe that was him once, but it isn’t now. Raffi, I hope this is okay to say.”
He nodded, then looked toward the door. “It is. I feel like I should go so you two can talk about me behind my back,” he joked.
“No, stay.” She turned back to her sister. “Tal, we were going to keep it secret until after the wedding, so we could keep people’s attention on the actual wedding and not us. We’re supposed to be just working together. But I don’t want to hide it from you. I adore him. He’s…everything to me.”
He felt a great weight lift, as if something in him had been unlocked. Ani had been melting the cold hardness in him for months, but there had still remained an icy gate that Ani just smashed open with her words. Sharing their relationship for the first time. He didn’t know it had meant so much to him. To have her tell one of the most important people in her world that they were together.
He realized it now. He wanted it all—every second, every breath, every damn heartbeat.
Raffi wanted to marry this woman.
Talar shifted uncomfortably, sizing up Raffi. “I have to admit, you’re different from what I thought you’d be, praising my sister like that. Ani really does have a magic touch. I should bring you into some of my negotiations.”
Ani held up her hands. “No, thanks,” she said. “Done with that world.”
“So.” Raffi cleared his throat, feeling a lightness in his body, so light it was turning to near pleasurable delirium. “Should we grab a bite? If you have time?”
Talar smiled cautiously at him. “We have time.”
The three of them strolled to a café, ate enormous chocolatechip cookies and drank iced lattes, and enjoyed the warm Napa afternoon. They showed Talar the winery and the finished work he and Ani had helped bring together. And slowly, while chatting with his girlfriend and her sister under the September sun, he felt himself being pulled into their world. Into a second family, one where he might belong.
All they had to do was make it through the wedding, then he could shout his love to the world.
25
Ani
Three days beforethe wedding, Ani drove to the address Kami had given her for the house her family had rented in Napa. It was ten minutes of a windy, hilly drive off the Silverado Trail, and Ani wasn’t sure what to expect because she couldn’t see many homes beyond all the thick oak trees and wiry bushes. Just a couple of gates with houses hidden far beyond them. Her phone’s map showed that it was a twenty-minute drive from the rented house to Raffi’s place, which wasn’t too bad. She had swung by his place first for sourj and kisses.
Things had been going well. Things had been goingsowell. The construction at Ô was finished and looked stunning, even better than she could have imagined. Ani had double-checked with every single vendor to confirm that no other orders had been botched, and even gave them specific security instructions to ensure that nothing could be changed without Ani’s explicit consent. Her brides were happy, the dress crisis had been averted, and they were not panic-texting her about anything.
Ani, of course, was still stressing because she hadn’t figured out who was behind the sabotage. Who had canceled the flower order? Had Kami’s dress alteration fiasco been a random error or an intentional scheme? (Luckily, Ani barely needed to help Kami with the dress issue after Kami apparently told the seamstress, “Money is no object. Just make this dress fit me ASAP!”) And what was with those menus?
Three weeks ago, the menus had arrived at Ani’s place printed incorrectly. Not just typos. The full menu had been turned into a middle-school joke. If she hadn’t been freaking out, she would have been amused by the “chunky fish Jell-O shots” appetizer and the “deep-fried mystery nuggets” main course. But this silliness was not her brides’ doing. Luckily, Sanan had been able to personally go down to the printers and oversee the creation of the correct menus.
Not knowing who was behind this made Ani’s stomach turn, and it wasn’t just the twisting road. She had a feeling that whoever they were, they weren’t done yet.
As Ani rolled up closer to the address, she heard something other than the crunch of her car tires over the gravelly path. Talking, clamoring, commotion.
Then she saw it. A massive group of reporters and paparazzi stationed outside the gates of Kami’s rented home. They turned Ani’s way, flashing bulbs at her beat-up car. They were going to be sorely disappointed. No Grace here.
