“You sure? Because it looks like?—”
“I said I’m fine, Charlie.” The snap in her voice makes him step back, hands raised in surrender.
Sienna tugs on his arm, reading the room better than her fiancé. “Come on, babe. Let’s get some air. Give everyone space to breathe.”
After they leave, Parker stands there for a moment, swaying slightly. Then she looks at each of us in turn, and I can see the moment she makes her decision.
“I need time,” she says finally.
“How much time?” Jace asks, and there’s that protective edge again, like he’s already planning how to keep her safe while she thinks.
“I don’t know.” She backs toward the curtain, but there’s no panic in the movement now. Just careful consideration. “I need to think. I need to figure out if I’m brave enough for this.”
“You are,” I tell her. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
She stares at me for a long moment, something shifting in her expression. “What if Charles?—”
“Charles doesn’t get a vote,” Cal cuts in, voice firm despite the easy smile. “This is between us and you. No one else.”
Her voice is barely audible. “If I decide I want this? What happens then?”
“Whatever we want to happen,” Jace says simply, with that military directness.
She nods slowly, like she’s filing that information away. Then she turns and walks toward the curtain, pausing just before she reaches it.
“For the record,” she says without turning around, “I wasn’t bad at it up there, was I?”
The question is soft, vulnerable, and it makes my chest tight with affection and pride and bone-deep possession.
“Angel,” Cal says, voice rough with want and that hint of playful pride, “you were fucking perfect.”
She turns back just long enough to give us a small, real smile—the first genuine one we’ve seen all night. Then she slips through the curtain and disappears into the crowd.
We sit in silence for a long moment, the weight of what just happened settling around us like smoke.
“Well,” Cal says finally, reaching for the whiskey bottle that appeared on our table at some point, "that was either the best thing we’ve ever done or the biggest mistake of our lives.”
“Both,” Jace says grimly, but there’s something almost satisfied in his voice. “Definitely both.”
I watch the curtain where she disappeared, and for the first time in six years, I’m not worried about her running.
Because now she knows the truth. About us, about herself, about what we all want.
And Parker Carter has never been one to back down from a challenge.
10
PARKER
The wedding day breakfast tastes like sawdust and diplomatic warfare. Mom sits across from Dad and Aria, her smile sharp enough to cut crystal while she compliments Aria’s “youthful perspective” on the centerpieces. Dad chews his eggs Benedict like he’s grinding his teeth, and Aria keeps touching her stomach in that telltale way that makes my own clench with dread.
The whole wedding party is here—bridesmaids picking at fruit salad while they discuss last-minute hair changes, groomsmen already looking slightly overwhelmed by the day ahead. Charles keeps checking his watch, that nervous energy he gets before big events, making him fidget with his coffee cup. Sienna glows beside him, radiant in a simple sundress that somehow makes her look like she’s already wearing her wedding gown.
Last night feels like a dream and a nightmare all at once. The confession in that private booth, the three of them telling me they’ve wanted me for years, the impossible suggestion that I wouldn’t have to choose between them. I’ve been replaying theirwords all morning, trying to convince myself it was the alcohol talking, the heightened emotions of a wedding celebration.
But the way they’ve been looking at me this morning—careful, hopeful, like I’m a skittish animal they’re afraid to spook—tells me they meant every word.
I’m calculating how many more mimosas it’ll take to survive this when Rochelle appears at my elbow, mascara streaked, clutching her phone like a lifeline.
