“And,” Mia added, eyes flicking to me, unapologetically smug, “to hot daddy.”
I choked on my beer. “Oh my God,” I muttered. “That is not?—”
“Itis,” Dix said cheerfully. “You earned it. Broody. Protective. Emotionally constipated but trying.”
Elliot laughed—really laughed—and the sound hit me harder than any toast ever could.
“To Elliot,” Drax said more quietly, lifting his glass last. “For staying. For choosing to live. For choosing us.”
The fire popped softly.
“To Anthony,” Elliot said, his voice steady but full. “For coming back. Every time.”
That one—I felt in my bones.
Thomas’s hand closed around my sleeve before I could say something stupid or emotional or both. “Go on,” he said gently, nodding toward the garden path. “Take a walk. Clear your head.”
I hesitated, eyes flicking back to Elliot. He’d gone back to arranging the flowers, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration, like the world wasn’t heavy anymore. Like it hadn’t almost swallowed him whole.
Thomas squeezed my shoulder once, firm and knowing and nodded toward the beach. I followed him knowing it was what I needed.
The dunes rolled soft and pale beneath the fading sky, the beach stretching out like a held breath. The water was calm tonight, silver and patient, whispering instead of roaring. The air smelled like salt and dry grass and the last ghost of smoke clinging to my clothes.
We walked in silence for a while, boots crunching lightly through sand.
“Big day,” Thomas said eventually.
I huffed out a breath. “That’s one way to put it.”
He smiled. “You look different.”
I glanced over. “Different how?”
“Lighter,” he said. “Not because it was easy. Because you didn’t run.”
I swallowed.
“Seeing him like this,” I said after a moment. “Laughing. Letting people love him without flinching… I didn’t think I’d get to see that. I didn’t thinkhe’dget to see it.”
Thomas nodded. “He’s happy.”
“Grounded,” I corrected softly. “Happy comes and goes. This—this feels like something that stays.”
The ocean filled the space between us.
“So,” Thomas said, casual as anything. “You going to set a date?”
I barked out a laugh. “I haven’t even asked him yet.”
Thomas stopped walking. I stopped too and turned to him, heart thudding, and the words were already there—waiting.
“You’ll be my best man,” I said. Not a question.
His face cracked open into something fierce and proud. “Yeah,” he said immediately. “Yeah, I will.”
I exhaled, something loosening in my chest. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“You would,” he said. “But I’m glad I got to walk it with you.”
