“I’m fine—” Lucky protests again, hands raised in polite surrender, but my mother waves her off as if she’s swatting at an insect. Charlotte is giggling now, leaning on the doorway for support, the kind of smirk that makes me want to crawl under the nearest table.
I step forward. “Mum—she’s really just—”
“Perfect,” my mother interrupts cheerfully. “Perfect! She’ll sit right here.” She gestures toward the dining room, like Lucky has no say in the matter.
Lucky flinches slightly at the formal invitation. Her jaw tightens, her hands gripping the edge of the chair like she’s bracing for battle. That smirk, half-defiance, half-amusement, is aimed straight at me. My jaw ticks. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to stay, that she can vanish if she wants, but my mother would treat it like a spectacle.
Dinner starts. Of course, my mum brought several bags of takeaway, enough to feed a small army. I can feel my jaw tightening just looking at the mountain of containers.
My father is busy surveying the cutlery as if it’s a field report, and Charlotte alternates between asking pointed questions and smirking at Lucky’s polite-but-dry answers. My mother hovers, offering her the tiniest sips of wine as though she’s coaxing a wild animal. Lily has already perched on the corner of the table, elbow on the linen, eyes sparkling.
I can feel it—the heat creeping up my neck—as my family sizes Lucky up. My chest tightens again, protective instinct flaring.
Don’t let them scare her off. She doesn’t need this right now.
“So,” my mother begins, voice syrupy with mischief, “you two… how long have you been seeing each other?”
I choke. Almost laugh. Nearly choke again. Lucky freezes mid-bite of bread, eyes flicking toward me as if to sayHelp me. I can barely manage a strained, “We’re not—” before Charlotte cuts in with a laugh that makes me grit my teeth.
“Oh, Ethan,” Mum says, shaking her head, eyes glinting. “Honestly. You really are hopeless at keeping anything private. I knew it the moment she walked in. Though I must admit, she’s clever. Quick wit—took you long enough to find someone who can spar back.”
I glance at Lucky. That faint smirk, so small it could be mistaken for nothing, makes something in my chest twist. I’m mortified, yes, but… also a little relieved. She didn’t flee.
Lily bounces on her chair. “Lucky’s amazing! She showed me a riff yesterday! Right, Lucky?” She beams at our neighbour like they’re conspirators in some secret plot.
Lucky glances down at her, softening just slightly. “You’ve got fast fingers, kiddo. I’ll teach you later—if you promise not to bother Nana too much.”
Charlotte leans back, hands folded, smirking like she’s the puppet master. “Ethan, you’re like a hostage here. Look at her… handling Lily, Mother, and me all at once. I’m impressed. And mildly terrified for you.”
I flush. “I’m fine,” I mutter, voice tight.
“Not fine,” Charlotte corrects, wagging a perfectly manicured finger. “Never fine when there’s female firepower in the room.”
My mother leans forward suddenly, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, Lucky, this was our home once. Left for Florida, rented it out to city folk… then, well, life happened. Ethan returned with Lilly to raise her here in Cedar Lake Falls. Bought the house, then renovated it for years.”
I feel the heat rise again—pride mixed with a twitch of something darker. Small town. Easier to raise Lily than in a crowded city. Every floorboard, every painted wall, every fence I’d rebuilt with my own hands. This is my life now.
Lucky raises a brow. “Really? Sounds like quite a project.”
“It was,” I mutter quietly, fingers tightening around my glass.
Charlotte smirks at me across the table. “See? You’ve always had a taste for domestic chaos… just on a slightly larger scale now.”
Mum doesn’t stop—she never does.“We came to America ages ago,” she continues breezily. “His father took a job with an automotive firm—mechanical engineering—and dragged us all across the Atlantic. Ethan was sixteen, Charlotte eighteen. We thought we’d end up in some bustling city, but your father saw Cedar Lake Falls and declared it reminded him of home.”
She waves a hand dramatically.
“A little town in the north of England. Familiar. Quiet. So we settled. And somehow… we stayed.”
Charlotte smirks into her wine. “Mum says ‘settled’ like we didn’t complain for two straight years.”
“It was,” I mutter quietly, fingers tightening around my glass, “not that bad.”
Dinner continues in chaos: my father quietly judging, my mother hosting like royalty, Charlotte teasing like a bulldog in silk, Lucky parrying and poking back with effortless sarcasm, and Lily chattering endlessly at both of them, claiming Lucky as her new best friend.
Somewhere in the middle of it, my mind drifts back to the other day. Hearing her on the phone, finding her on her patio, tears streaking her face. Vulnerable in a way she never lets anyone see. I’d felt like a trespasser, unwanted, intrusive—but I hadn’t looked away. I hadn’t known what she needed. All I knew was I wanted to help, even if it meant stepping into her fragile world.
And now here she is again, caught up in another scene she didn’t ask for, forced into proximity with my family. My chest tightens. Protective instincts flare, but I also feel something more complicated—guilt, yes, but also a sharp surge of something else, something like… relief. She didn’t run for the hills or vanish. She stayed.
