At least Kepler’s more comfortable around people now. He and his girlfriend are splayed out on their bed, limbs akimbo, wrapped around each other like a couple of happy noodles.
“Aw.” Viktor squats down in front of the habitat. “Did you know their ferrets have matching bowties? Knova. Babe.”
Knova crosses her arms. “Absolutely not.”
“What if…?”
“What do you think Savage would do with a ferret?”
“Right.” Viktor straightens up. “We should get a dog instead.”
“Not in the condo.” Knova turns to me. “Can I help you carry anything out?”
We spend the next half hour setting up tables and laying out food. Friends trickle in: Marley, who still refuses to bring her partner to team events; Violet and Bowen, who instructed me not to open their housewarming present of a physio ball until Tristan and I are alone, for some reason; Camden and Dot, along with their gorgeous baby, Delilah, who brought a gift basket brimming with ferret treats; Sophia and Knight, who provided a platter of the legendary cannolis made at the Puck Drop; Coach Ranger, who’s taken it easy this season since he’s still recovering from an accident the year before; Coach Metcalfe, his wife Viv; Viv and Viktor’s parents, Molly and Noah, the latter of whom is also a coach; plus Briggs Sawyer and his wife Layla, who also happen to be Violet and Lenyx’s parents. He’s also the head of player acquisitions.
It’s strange to have a house full of people, none of whom are related to me by blood—especially in a group that’s so, shall we say, close-knit. This seems like the kind of event our familieswould attend. But that’s the thing I still can’t get over—this is my family. Loud, inappropriate, snack-carrying, emotionally constipated, wildly loyal. People who show up because they want to. Not because they want to manage me, shape me, or auction me off.
Tristan’s family is the best, but they couldn’t make it from Canada on short notice, and mine… well, obviously, mine will never be here.
A soft knock sounds at the front door before I can chase the thought away. I’m not expecting anyone else, and Tristan’s already in the kitchen. Curious, I slip away from the noise and open it.
A delivery driver stands there holding a massive bouquet of white lilies and soft green eucalyptus. Elegant. Expensive. Not Tristan’s style. Not anyone’s here.
“For Minerva Marino?” he asks.
My stomach dips. “Yes.”
He hands over the arrangement and leaves before I can ask who sent it. There’s a small envelope tucked between the stems. My name is written in my mother’s sweeping handwriting.
My breath snags.
Stepping back inside, I close the door quietly so none of the chaos behind me spills into this strange, fragile moment.
I open the envelope.
Minerva,
You were right to leave when you did. You’re so brave, braver than I ever was. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you until that day. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I hope this new life you’re building is kind to you. You deserve that and more.
If there ever comes a day when we might be able to find our way back to each other, if forgiveness is even a sliver of possibility, my door is open.
—Mama
The words blur for a second. I set the note against the flowers, steadying myself. It doesn’t fix everything. It doesn’t erase the years she stood by and let my father’s control eclipse everything else. But it’s… something.
A crack in the wall I thought was sealed shut.
Tristan’s laughter carries from the kitchen, warm and familiar. I take a breath, tuck the note back into the bouquet, and head toward the noise—toward the family I chose.
I sip a glass of wine, lost in thoughts about my mother, until someone taps my elbow. I turn to see Dante, who opens his arms wide. “Congratulations on the new house, cupcake!”
“Where did you come from? I didn’t see you arrive!” I wrap my arms around my godfather and lean into him. He gives surprisingly good hugs.
Julie’s right behind him with a hug of her own. “You look great, honey.” She, too, gives me a loving squeeze.
I hang on for a beat longer than is probably polite, nostalgia overwhelming the moment. Memories rush through me. Good ones. Before my father became more powerful and everything unraveled. It frustrates me to continue to crave something I know I’ll never have, but at least I have Dante to fill that need for approval.
When I finally release her, Julie kisses my cheeks.
