My phone buzzes in my pocket as the applause dies down. It’s a text from Mom.
Watching the livestream. She’s a natural! Tell Sophie we’re cheering from home.
Another from Dad follows a second later.
Proud of our granddaughter. Tell her Grandpa’s giving her a standing ovation.
A smile pulls at my mouth before I even realize it. I text back a quick photo of the stage—Sophie and Maya still beaming under the lights.
She’ll love that,I text back. Miss you guys.
When I slip the phone away, the pride in my chest feels twice as big. They’re still part of this, even from miles away.
Afterward, the gym’s transformed into a makeshift pizza party for cast and families. Paper plates, string lights, kids still in costume. Sophie’s glowing, all nerves forgotten. She darts between tables with Maya, showing off flowers, replaying their duet for anyone who’ll listen.
When she finally circles back, I crouch to her level. “Proud of you, kiddo.”
She grins wide. “Charlotte said I nailed my breathing!”
I glance up at Charlotte, who’s across the table helping Erin stack plates. She just shrugs, a quiet smile tugging at her mouth.
Sophie continues, “Don’t forget—I’m staying at Maya’s tonight, remember?”
“I remember,” I say, smiling. “Go have fun.”
She grins, hugs me quick, then darts off again toward Maya and the snack table.
The rest of the night blurs into laughter, cleanup chatter, and goodbyes. By the time Charlotte and I step out into the parking lot, the air is cool and quiet.
“You made her night,” I say quietly.
Charlotte glances down at the flowers, her voice soft. “She made mine.”
For a second, we just stand there beside our cars, the streetlights buzzing overhead. The space between us feels charged—not rushed, just inevitable.
There’s a pull I can’t ignore anymore. Not just want. It’sneed. Not the kind that burns fast and fades, but the kind that settles in, roots deep.
Every time I look at her, it feels less like something new and more like something I’ve been waiting to find again.
“Stay tonight,” I say finally. “She’s at Maya’s, and I don’t feel like the night should end yet.”
Charlotte hesitates, eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” My voice comes out low. “Pretty damn sure.”
She nods once, slow, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Then I’ll follow you.”
By the time I pull into my driveway and see her headlights in the rearview mirror, my pulse is already a steady, hungry drum.
Chapter Thirty-Three
CHARLOTTE
The porch light’s still on when I pull in behind him.
He’s already out of the truck, waiting by the door—one hand in his pocket, the other running through his hair like he’s trying to play it cool and failing miserably.
I barely make it up the steps before he reaches for me, hands finding my waist and anchoring me closer. Everything in me exhales, and the long, steady control I’ve been holding slips the second he whispers my name.
