“The stars are cool,” he says thoughtfully. “Can we get stars in the ceiling of our car?”
Harrison doesn’t answer, lost deep in thought. I’m pretty sure the kids could ask for his credit card right now, and he’d hand it over without blinking.
Ollie looks around, squinting at the interior. “They should have stars everywhere in here.” I laugh as he tilts his head, studying me. “Do they have stars because you’re a star? Is this what it’ll be like traveling with you?”
My heart squeezes.
I don’t tell them that traveling for work isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. That I’d rather be here with them than one more day on set.
Or that after today, I don’t know how long I’ll be in their lives. No matter how desperately I want to be.
Harrison hasn’t said a word, and the silence feels wrong on him.
So, I make up a story on the spot. “Actually, this car used to belong to an astronaut,” I say solemnly. “He missed space so much, he stole a pocketful of stars and put them here.”
“No way,” Ollie says, eyes wide.
“Isn’t that right, Travis?”
Travis chuckles. “That’s what I heard.” Then he points ahead. “I’ll drop you at the corner.”
He pulls over, and I look up.
Donovan’s
Cakes & Celebration
Travis opens the door, and the kids spill out like they own the place. It’s clear they’ve been here before.
Harrison takes my hand and helps me out.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Mrs. D’s,” he says, admiration clear in his voice. “Her cake shops are famous all over the world. But her celebration venues?” He nods toward the building. “Strictly New York. This one’s a full-scale event space.”
We step closer, and I catch a glimpse through the windows.
Warm light. Christmas everywhere. Garlands and twinkle lights and the low hum of laughter.
It feels less like a business and more like walking into someone’s home.
And it’s not just a bunch of strangers I don't know.
I spot my family in an instant.
My parents.
Mi abuela.
Gabe. Which explains why he didn’t show up this morning.
When I take in the enormous crowd of faces I don’t recognize, I assume those belong to Harrison’s family and his closest friends.
I swallow past the knot tightening in my throat.
This isn’t about optics anymore. We’re not play-acting here.
Harrison Evans is about to introduce me as his wife.
