His words settled deep, too close to something I’d buried years ago. Before I could respond, Elyna called us over for a photo. The whole family gathered near the old maple tree. Pierre was pretending to scowl, Asher was holding a balloon that had already half-deflated, Phoenix with frosting on his shirt. Eric stood beside me, our shoulders brushing just enough to make my pulse trip.
After the pictures, as everyone drifted back toward the house for dinner prep, I lingered behind. The sky had turned honey gold, the light catching in the orchard rows. I traced a hand over one of the thistle stems from the centerpiece box I’d carried out earlier, its purple bloom small but fierce. It was stubborn, surviving where it shouldn’t. Maybe that was why I loved it.
When I looked up, Eric was still there. He’d been watching me.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Just needed a second.”
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “You keep finding excuses to come out here.”
“Maybe I like the quiet.”
“Or maybe you like not having to explain yourself.” He cocked his right brow and gave me a crooked grin.
I met his eyes, startled by how easily he saw me. “You always do that; see too much.”
“Bad habit,” he said, voice low.
The sound of Elyna calling for him broke whatever held us still. I turned toward the house, brushing my fingers along the thistle one last time.
“Coming?” he asked smiled faintly.
“Yeah. Just catching my breath,” I sighed.
As I walked back toward the porch, laughter rose from inside, warm and alive. The kind of sound that promised forever to anyone brave enough to believe in it. I wasn’t sure I did, but as the wind lifted through the orchard behind me, I thought maybe, just maybe, I wanted to.
CHAPTER 13
Eric
I didn’t follow Harmony right away. I stayed where I was, hands on my hips, watching the orchard settle back into itself like nothing just shifted. That was the thing about moments like that, they didn’t announce themselves. They just landed, quiet and heavy, and left you standing there trying to remember how you were breathing before. She didn’t say anything wrong. Neither did I. Still, the space she left behind felt different, charged in a way I didn’t have a name for. I told myself it was nostalgia, the echo of something finished years ago. That explanation had always been easier than admitting the truth.
By the time I headed back toward the house, I’d already put the feeling where I kept things I didn’t have time for. Inside, the main house was chaos but not wedding chaos. Birthday chaos. Streamers hung crooked across the doorway, balloons bumped the ceiling, and Braden’s voice carried through everything, loud and proud and two years old. Elyna had declared the kitchen off-limits to anyone without a purpose, frosting smeared on her sleeve and determination in her eyes. Phoenix was sitting beside Braden in his high chair.
Braden squealed. Dad hovered near the counter, pretending not to get emotional every time Braden laughed.
Then the front door opened, and Luc Chabot filled the space like a gust of fresh air, duffel over one shoulder.
“I made it,” he announced, tired but smiling.
Elyna spun. “You weren’t supposed to drive overnight!”
“Coach gave me two days,” he said. “I’m not missing my nephew’s birthday or your wedding.”
Bean stepped in behind him, cheeks flushed from the cold. “You really think a Thorne wedding weekend starts without us?”
Phoenix abandoned the truck and pulled Luc into a hug. “You look awful.”
“Worth it,” Luc retorted, reaching for Braden. “Happy birthday, buddy.”
Braden shrieked. “Uncle Luc!”
Asher appeared with a half-deflated balloon. “Pretty sure I’m still the favorite.”
“Keep dreaming,” Luc shot back.
Laughter filled the room, easy and loud. For a minute, everything felt simple. Even Becket cracked a smile, though I caught the shadow behind his eyes. Clearly, the letter from the attic was still sitting heavy on him.
