Grant laughs at Hazel’s interjection.
"The point is, I'm not here to apologize for falling in love with her. I'm here to apologize for not fighting for that love sooner. So, Sophia, if you're watching, I'm ready to do this right. No more hiding, no more letting fear win. Just us, building something real together in front of everyone who wants to watch. If you'll give me another chance, I promise to love you proudly, publicly, and completely."
Jess leans back, a genuine smile on her face.
"Well, that's quite a declaration."
"It is. And it's long overdue."
“You heard it here,On the Red Carpet. Until next time, listeners—stay tuned."
The video ends, and only then do I realize I'm crying. Sarah squeezes my hand.
"He recorded that last week," Jess says softly. "It goes live in an hour."
"I…" My voice cracks. "I can't…"
"Yes, you can," Blair says gently but firmly. "The question is do you want to?"
I think about all the reasons we fell apart and all the reasons we were so good together. "It might be too late," I whisper.
"Or," Sarah says, leaning forward, "it might be exactly the right time. Sometimes, we have to lose something to realize how much we wantto fight for it."
My phone buzzes, and I glance down and see a text from Lucas with a link to an article fromDeadlinethat recaps what Jess's podcast says.
LUCAS
Heads up. This is about to break. Do you want to comment?
I stare at the screen, my heart pounding. Everyone's watching me, waiting.
What do I want?
forty-six
. . .
Grant
I've giventhis party every year for a decade, but tonight, the familiar warmth of my Hamptons home feels hollow. The usual suspects are all here—industry veterans, old friends, chosen family—their voices creating that familiar buzz of connection and laughter that usually energizes me. Tonight, though, I'm just going through the motions.
"Hey, man, thanks for inviting us again," Wyatt says as he brings me in for a man hug.
I look behind him, hoping to see a familiar face. "Of course, man. Always." I'm just grateful he's been so cool about my public declaration for his sister.
"She didn't come with us. Sorry, man."
A week. It's been a week since I bared my soul on Jess's podcast, since I told the world—and Sophia—exactly how I feel. The silence has been deafening. Even Lucas has stopped offering reassurances.
I invited her tonight witha simple note.
You've always belonged in my inner circle. Please come.No pressure, no grand declarations. Just us.
She didn't respond.
I'm barely listening to my guests, so I slip out of the house and onto the back deck, which overlooks the ocean. The end of summer breeze carries a hint of coolness, and I can't help but picture a future where Sophia stands out here with me, telling me stories about her day.
"You're not being a very good host out here by yourself."
