I just stood there, grinning like an idiot, because seeing her adored like that felt better than any medal.
Eventually, the chaos funneled us toward the lift. Her hand found mine in the quiet between floors, fingers lacing through.
Then the elevator doors opened.
The rooftop had been transformed, fairy lights strung overhead like stars, long tables draped in white, champagne chilling in silver buckets. But it wasn’t the décor that hit her, it was the people.
Her family. My family. Not everyone, not a circus, just the close ones. Her dad, Bianca, Nan, the people who mattered most. And her team, tight-knit, the ones who’d been with her through the bruises and the endless drills. That was it. Small, but somehow larger than life.
They were all waiting, smiling, clapping softly as if she’d just walked on stage.
She staggered a half step back, her free hand flying to her mouth.
I squeezed her fingers tighter, steadying her. My chest burned with the secret I’d been carrying all day, finally let it loose.
“Welcome to our celebration,” I whispered.
Both our families mingled easily, laughter spilling over the music. My mom was deep in conversation with her nan, hands clasped like they’d known each other for years. Olivia’s dad was trading wine recommendations with my dad, voices booming like old mates. Bianca and Maddie were already plotting some joint holiday, if their conspiratorial giggles meant anything.
It was… surreal. Two worlds, hers and mine, not clashing but blending.
I caught sight of Liv slipping away from my side, weaving gently through the crowd. She wrapped her arms around her nan, pressed a kiss to her dad’s cheek, then drew my mom into a hug that left both of them smiling misty-eyed.
I found myself drawn toward the quieter corner where her team stood. They lingered on the edges, close enough to belong but careful not to intrude. When I caught their eyes, they didn’t look at me like an outsider. They looked at me like someone who mattered to her.
Coach Dani finally broke the silence, grinning as she raised her glass in my direction. “You’ve got my respect, Cadiz. Not many people could pull off a night like this without a media circus.”
I felt my throat tighten, but I managed a crooked smile. “Means a lot, really. I know how much you trust her, and if I’ve earned even a fraction of your respect too… I’ll take it.”
Something softened in her face at that, and a couple of the others nodded, the air shifting from polite tolerance into something closer to acceptance.
Archer slipped in beside me, shoulder brushing mine. “You did good,” he said quietly. “She needed this. All of it.”
I shrugged, suddenly shy. “You too. Gold in men’s tennis? I’m so damn proud of you.”
His lips quirked into a grin, cocky as always, but it softened when he saw I meant it. “Yeah, well. Guess we’re both doing the Cadiz name proud tonight.”
“Guess so,” I murmured, and for a moment I just looked at him, my mirror, the one who’d seen me through every storm and stubborn mistake.
Then I smirked, because sincerity only got us so far. “By the way… I might’ve invited someone. She should be here any minute.”
His head snapped toward me, eyes wide. “You didn’t.”
I smirked. “I did. Figured the night’s big enough for both twins to get their happy ending.”
For the first time all night, Archer looked genuinely undone. He scrubbed a hand over his face, then pulled me into a half-hug, half-headlock. “You’re impossible! And thank you!”
Before I could answer, he muttered something about needing to “not look like a complete disaster for once” and jogged off through the crowd, probably in search of a suit jacket that didn’t smell like champagne.
We broke apart just as Olivia’s family found me. Her dad clasped my shoulder with a grip that was both heavy and kind. “You’ve given Liv more than a celebration. You’ve given her… space to breathe. To feel her mum with her. I’ll never forget that.”
Nan followed with a smile so soft it nearly undid me. “She’s strong, but even the strong need someone to lean on. Thank you for being that someone.”
All I could do was nod, my throat too tight to trust words.
I’d sent the invitation wider than family, too. But Georgia had begged off, worn down after the kind of week that would’ve broken most players, saying she needed nothing more than her bed and silence. Cassandra’s schedule was slammed back-to-back with French media interviews and sponsor dinners, her phone buzzing nonstop with obligations she couldn’t escape.
In the end, it was Nico who showed up. He hugged Liv first, then found his way to me.
