A small smile tugged at one corner of Xander’s mouth. “Good. Knowing that makes me feel good.”
When it was time to order dinner, Xander chose the pan-seared salmon with risotto and broccolini. Rylee ordered the lemon-garlic pasta with scallops.
“Another glass for her, please,” Xander said, motioning to her nearly empty wine glass.
She considered declining—she was already feeling the buzz from the first—but tonight, she wanted to savor every moment.
In just a few days, the anniversary of Lennox’s death would arrive. The upcoming Wednesday. Every year, it came like clockwork, and every year she dreaded it. Xander never knew. She never told him. So this dinner cruise, this gesture, came right on time.
For a while, they dined in easy silence, the only sounds between them were the gentle tap and scrape of silverwareagainst their plates. Rylee tried to stay present, but a soft pang had settled in her chest.
“Where are you right now?”
His question pulled her up from her thoughts.
She looked up from her plate, blinking away the fog. His voice had been gentle, low, but still audible over the soft jazz and ambient conversation around them.
She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs beneath the table.
Rylee considered telling him the truth. That the anniversary of Lennox’s death was heavy on her mind tonight. That the ache was already starting. And she hated how it sneaked up on her year after year and unraveled her without warning.
But instead, she pivoted.
“I was just thinking about how Nova and LJ have been arguing again.” She lifted her glass and sipped. “LJ’s back to being bothered about her room being bigger.”
Xander chuckled. “You know that boy wants everything equal. Especially when it comes to his big sister.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed, shaking her head.
“That’s why I’m intentional with always being fair with them.” He grinned. “That boy don’t play about stuff like that.”
“At all,” Rylee said, laughing with him.
To have someone who understood her children so well—wholovedthem enough toknowthem—wasn’t just comforting. It was profound. But it stirred something else in her, too. Something heavier. A quiet guilt she couldn't shake.
“You ever think about giving him more space?” Xander asked.
Rylee’s brow lifted. She froze, her smile fading.
What did he mean?
“You mean like… moving?” she asked, her tone edged with unintentional defensiveness.
Xander held her gaze, unfazed. He shook his head quickly. “Nah, not like that. Just… you know, whatever feels right for them. That’s all I meant.”
She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her shoulders softened.
“Oh. Yeah,” she said, shifting in her seat. “I mean… I do. I just… I don’t want to think about changing too much right now.”
Not when so much already feels like it’s shifting without my permission.
It was a thought she kept to herself. Just like she kept the truth about what was on her mind that night. Not when one of those changes—the most unexpected one—was how much her love for the man seated across from her was deepening.
A man who handled her heart with such tenderness. Who never pushed, just showed up.
Still, the guilt clung like a shadow. She could’ve told him. Could’ve confessed the truth about what was weighing on her. But she didn’t.
Once their plates were cleared and dessert arrived—dark chocolate lava cake with fresh raspberries—Xander lifted the espresso shots he ordered and held his glass in the air.
