I blink. “Come again?”
“For earlier,” she continues. “I was out of line. It was an emotional day. For everyone.”
That might be the understatement of the century. “Certainly.”
She holds my gaze steadily. “I am sorry, Perry. I hope you can forgive me.”
For a moment, I just stare at her.
This woman has been my antagonist for months, maybe years in smaller ways when I was dating Jason. And now she’s standing in front of me, asking for something close to grace.
The sparklers ignite around us, small flames flickering in growing brightness.
“I don’t want this to be a family war,” she says softly. “Not with babies involved.”
The word catches in my chest. Babies. She doesn’t say bastard or illegitimate.
I look at Meron. He avoids my eyes. I’m not sure why.
The newlyweds climb into the car. Cheers erupt. Sparklers wave in arcs of light. The engine starts. It’s all so choreographed that I could close my eyes and know what happens.
Faith leans out the window and blows a kiss toward the crowd. Jason does the same. The car rolls forward slowly through the tunnel of light. Even Amber looks happy as they pull away.
Standing there in the fading sparks and cooling air, something in me unclenches.
The sparklers burn down to thin wire stems, and one by one, guests begin dropping them into the metal buckets placed along the drive. The smell of smoke lingers in the air, sharp and metallic, mixing with perfume and champagne and autumn chill.
I study Amber carefully before I answer. “One day,” I say slowly, “when my sons get married, I hope someone gives me grace for whatever evil, hurtful, cruel things I might say out of fear or insecurity.”
Amber’s lips press together, but she doesn’t look offended.
“Because I will say them,” I continue. “I will probably be insufferable. I will think I know what’s best. I will feel protective in ways that don’t make sense to anyone else.”
She nods faintly.
“And if someone forgives me for that, I hope I’m self-aware enough to appreciate it.” The silence between us softens. “So, I forgive you, Amber.”
She exhales slowly, something in her posture releasing. “Thank you.”
I look at Meron then. “But I do have one condition.”
Meron stiffens.
Amber glances sideways at him, then back at me. “I’m listening.”
“If we’re going to try whatever this is,” I say, gesturing vaguely between us, “then I’d like it to start with you convincing your boyfriend to give Damian his job back.”
Meron makes a small, disapproving sound. “That was a business decision, and I do not reverse business decisions. It’s what’s best for the hospital.”
Amber clears her throat. That’s all it takes.
Meron sniffs, having lost an invisible argument. “Bygones, right, Damian?”
Damian doesn’t look amused. “Sure. But I’m still not coming back to the hospital. I have other things I’d like to accomplish.”
That’s news to me.
Meron visibly relaxes at that. “Very well. The door is always open.”
