I glance around instinctively. “What happened with her? I saw you two talking.”
Cami shrugs. “I don’t want to ruin your night.”
I snort. “Cami.”
She sighs. “Basically, if something isn’t about her, you know she’s gonna ruin it for everyone.”
I nod in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“We didn’t exactly luck out in the mom department,” she says lightly, like she’s talking about bad weather instead of something that still hurts.
I don’t argue. There’s no point pretending otherwise. “Pretty much the parent department.”
She grabs my hand and drags me onto the dancefloor. The song shifts into something upbeat and ridiculous, and we immediately start dancing like idiots, laughing, and being silly.
Not smooth. Not cool. Just flailing arms, exaggerated spins, and Cami pretending to dip me so hard I almost lose my balance.
People around us laugh and cheer. I catch Maggie wiping at her eyes, crying, laughing at us being silly. Jack’s watching us with that look he gets when he pretends he’s not soft.
“We’re terrible,” I say, laughing.
“That’s the whole point,” Cami says.
I smile big and real. Because this night isn’t about what we didn’t get growing up. It’s about what we built anyway, without our shitbag parents here to ruin our day.
Cami bumps into my chest and then looks up at me, suddenly serious.
“You know I would take a bullet for you, Ollie,” she says.
I laugh. “Cami, you’d be the reason we were getting shot at in the first place.”
She bursts out laughing and throws her arms around my neck, hugging me tight. “Rude. But honestly, probably fair.”
“I love you, Cami,” I say, meaning every word.
“Love you too, Ol,” she says back.
We stay like that for a second longer than necessary, swaying in the middle of the dance floor while everything else keeps moving around us.
I think about how many years it’s been just us against the world. We learned early that family isn’t always the people who give birth to you. Sometimes it’s the people who choose you and show up for you when they have nothing to gain from it.
When the song ends, Cami kisses my cheek and playfully shoves me. “Go,” she says softly. “Your wife’s looking for you.”
Wife. The word hits me right in the chest.
I turn and see Poppy standing near the edge of the floor, hersecond dress flowing around her legs, eyes locked on me like she’s checking to make sure I’m still hers, too.
I cross the room without thinking. She smiles when she sees me, that soft, knowing smile that still feels unreal. I slide my hand into hers, and she squeezes like she’s grounding both of us at once.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say honestly. “I’m more than okay now that I have you.”
She leans into me, head against my chest, and for the first time all night, I stop scanning the room. Stop waiting for something to go wrong.
This is it. We may not have started like a traditional couple. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life doesn’t always go like that. It’s messy, and sometimes we do things out of order.
The music swells again. Someone shouts. Someone laughs. The town keeps celebrating around us.
