The thought hit so hard her breath stopped.
“Oh,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone.
Her eyes burned. She looked down quickly, hoping no one noticed the tears pooling there.
Willow did.
She slid her chair closer, hip bumping Fern’s lightly. “Hey.”
Fern tried to smile. Failed. A tear escaped anyway, tracking down her cheek.
“Oh no,” Willow said softly. She reached out without hesitation, pulling Fern into a side hug. “Hey. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry,” Fern whispered, mortified. “I just—I thought I was only here to give advice on plants.”
Willow’s laugh was gentle, not unkind. “Oh, honey.”
“I didn’t think you actually wanted to include me, when I’m not really part of you all.”
Willow dipped her head, forcing her to meet her gaze. “We’re pretty confident you’re gonna be around.”
The words struck deep and settled like a soothing balm over a place that had been aching inside her for a long time.
Fern pressed her lips together, nodding as more tears slipped free. Willow passed her a napkin like this was the most normal thing in the world—which, apparently, it was.
On her other side, Felicity handed her a fruity beverage with an umbrella in the glass. “I cried the first time I realized everyone here accepted me too.”
Willow smiled, eyes soft. “Did I ever tell you about our evil goat Hellhorn?”
Fern laughed weakly and wiped her cheeks, shaking her head. When Willow launched into a story about how Crew squealed like a little girl when he saw the goat charging him, the whole group was in stitches.
They moved on, the conversation flowing easily again. Fern listened as each woman gave opinions about table settings, music and food, and found herself chiming in, offering thoughts without overthinking them.
Then she looked up and froze.
A famous person had just joined them.
Fern had seen pictures on TV and the internet. Everyone had.
Even if she wasn’t the most famous and talented violinist in the world, Juliette was the kind of woman people remembered thanks to her dark hair, striking features and breezy confidence.
Fern’s jaw dropped before she could stop it.
“You’re…Juliette,” she blurted. “TheJuliette.”
Juliette blinked, then laughed, a bright, genuine sound. “Guilty.” She held up a notebook. “But today I’m just the secretary taking notes on wedding plans. Sorry I’m late, everyone.” She scanned the group and then directed her attention to Fern again. She patted the empty chair beside her. “Come sit by me. Tell me what I missed.”
Fern moved on autopilot, cheeks burning.
Juliette glanced at her with an easy smile. “You’re with Crew, right?”
The question hit with a skipped heartbeat.
Fern opened her mouth.
Was she?
She spent time with him. She tumbled into his arms with careless abandon.
