The words land between us with a shared understanding. Providence. The quiet ceremony I wasn’t at. The one I’m still making peace with.
I step inside. “Of course I’m here,” I say. And I mean it down to my bones. Whatever else is a mess, this—showing up for her—is non-negotiable.
Her shoulders drop a fraction, some of the tension easing out of her. “Good,” she says. “Because I kind of need you.”
“Right,” I say. “Now, where are these awful shoes?”
She points to a pair abandoned near the vanity—wide-strapped, chunky-heeled sandals.
“Oh, no,” I say immediately. “Absolutely not. These are a crime.”
“I knew it,” Luna groans. “Mom thought they’d be okay, but…”
“Not for you,” I finish.
I glance around the room, spot the small suitcase Beckett promised Mom would bring for me, and cross to it.
I unzip it, search around a little, and then pull out a pair of delicate ballet-style slippers, soft ivory with a tiny bit of shimmer. The shoes I wore on my own wedding day. The ones I couldn’t quite bring myself to leave at home.
I turn back to Luna and hold them up. “Try these.”
Her eyes go wide. “Ash… how did you?—?”
“They were with the veil, so…”
She laughs, a little choked, and takes them from me. Keeping one hand on my shoulder, she slides her feet into my old slippers.
They fit.
Luna looks down, then up at me, eyes shining. “They’re perfect.”
Something tight in my chest loosens. “Yeah,” I say softly. “They are.”
And for the first time all day, this feels less like a disaster I’m trying to outrun… and more like what it’s supposed to be:
My sister’s wedding.
“Have you seen the twins yet?” Babs asks, her eyes sparkling.
“I think she just got here, Babs,” Tay says.
“Well, you need to track them down,” Mom says, waving a hand. “I swear. I’ve never seen anything so adorable in my life. Little tuxedos, suspenders, the works.”
I mean, yeah. Who does she think picked them out? Hemmed the pants? And then made them do a practice run two weeks before the cruise. Shoes, tie, everything.
“Perfect,” I say instead of any of that. Because at least one thing is finally going as planned.
And Max and Blakey do look cute in their little outfits.
Be here, I tell myself. Right here. With them.
Before I can fully settle into the warm, fizzy feeling of Luna in my shoes and everything feeling right, there’s a knock at the door.
A woman pokes her head in, clutching a clipboard and wearing a polite, controlled smile.
“Hi, Luna,” she says. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
“What bad news?” I blurt before Luna can answer.
