“Drive safe,” Grandma says for the third time, holding both my hands at the door of NOIR.
“I will. I promise.”
“And eat breakfast tomorrow. Real breakfast. Not just coffee.”
“I can’t have coffee. Pregnancy, remember?”
“Then juice. Orange juice. With pulp.”
I smile despite the exhaustion settling into my bones. “With pulp. Got it.”
She cups my face. Studies me in that way only grandmothers can—seeing past the makeup and the dress and the smile I’ve been holding all night.
“You did good today, Mary-Cat,” she says quietly. “I’m proud of you.”
My throat tightens. “For what? Turning thirty?”
“For surviving. For standing. For being here.” She touches my stomach, gentle. “For choosing life even when it’s terrifying.”
I can’t speak. Can only nod.
She kisses my forehead. “He’ll come home.”
“I know.”
I don’t know. But I want to believe.
Ruth hugs me next. Then Mateo, who smells like expensive cologne and promises to send me the photos from tonight.
Jasper walks me to the door, arm around my waist.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“Exhausted. Full. Grateful.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “Sad.”
“He’s coming back.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it’s true.” He squeezes my hand. “Get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thank you. For all of this.”
“Anytime, sugar tits.”
I laugh despite everything. “Never change, Jas.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The SUV is parked right outside. Black. Tinted windows. Engine already running.
Dima’s behind the wheel. I can just make out his silhouette through the windshield. Silent. Still. Very Dima.
Lev opens the back door for me. “Home?”
“Home.”
I slide into the back seat. The door closes. Engine hums.
