“You’re always brooding. But today it’s louder.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw, the tension living there for too many days. “The Marshall case hit a wall.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, like that explains everything but also changes nothing. “Where’s it at now?”
I hesitate. “Stalling in the research phase.”
Ava hisses. “Crumbs. I think I broke a button.”
“I’m sure they can sew it back on.” I glance around. “Not sure this is a you-break-it-you-buy-it kind of place.”
“How many buttons are on this thing?” she mumbles. “We might not even have a chance to do it on our wedding night…”
I stick my finger and thumb into my eye sockets. “Too much information.”
“Please,” she tuts. “You’re the one who got a woman pregnant. We’re both adults here.”
And it’s true. I see how much she’s grown and flourishedas a person in her partnership with Enzo. But most times, I still see her as a little girl.
A seamstress walks by carrying a dress that looks like a cloud had a love child with a chandelier. She smiles politely at me, then slips into the next room.
“If you don’t tell her you like her,” Ava singsongs, “I swear to God, I’ll tell her myself.”
“Tell herwhat?”
“That you want her…”
“Ava,” I warn.
“What? You checked your phone on the way here every ninety seconds like a middle-schooler waiting for a crush to text. And that’s now. You’ve liked her for a long time. Since… probably since you first saw her. Gabriel told Lara how you went all feral when you saw her in her PJs on the fire escape…”
That guy. He tells Lara everything.
“I checked my phone because I’m worried about the case…”And Freya.
But I leave that part out. I don’t think anyone can understand what’s at stake with a kid on the horizon unless they’ve experienced it themselves. Chasing happily-ever-afters is easier when you can walk away from someone if they break your heart. The armor slaps on thick when you know you can’t do that.
Thankfully, she takes my word for it and leans into shop talk.
“I get the obsession,” Ava says. “I’m like that with GhostEye cases…when they matter to me more than just professionally.”
Okay, it’s not just shop talk.
I turn my phone slowly in my hand, like that might somehow make it light up. “There’s nothing wrong with mewanting Freya to enjoy being pregnant. She might only get one shot at it.” I toss the phone onto the table. “I don’t want her running worst-case scenarios in her head while she’s supposed to be reading how the baby graduated from peanut to grapefruit. The case is getting stressful. If someone has to hold that weight, it should be me.”
A beat of silence.
“…Anton,” Ava says softly, “that’s how people talk about someone they love.”
I open my mouth—ready to unleash something snarky—but Ava interrupts me.
“Prepare yourself.”
The fitting room door swings open. And whatever smart-ass retort I might’ve had dies on impact.
Ava steps out in a gown that doesn’t just fit her. It frames her. Sculpted bodice, soft shimmer, fabric that captures light like it was woven from it. The kind of dress that turns a woman into something elemental. I stand without realizing I’m doing it.
Her sunshine grin widens. “Well? Gorgeously dramatic, right?”
