Her voice cracks, and Logan flinches behind her, shooting me a glare I can’t meet. Sam steps forward, leaning to kiss Sera’s cheek, whispering something I can’t hear, but it doesn’t matter.
Abort, abort cute protocol… she is upset and we are not cool with that.
Activate groveling…
The moment I study her, feeling Sera’s reassuring presence beside me, I let out a sad little sigh.
I can’t move.
I can’t speak.
There isn’t really anything I can say to defend myself. She’s fucking family.
Because I did leave her.
Mac is like a sister. She’s always been like a sister. And I left her. Without a word.
I wasn’t there. I left her in chaos, in fear, in the aftermath of what I caused. I should have called. I should have warned her. And I didn’t.
The guilt coils through me, tight, insistent, unrelenting, because I know she feels it too. She trusted me, and I disappeared. And Seraphina…
She’s here now, watching the exchange, still trembling, and I feel that tight knot in my chest twist sharper. Because I love her. Because she is mine. Because she’ll always be mine. And she’ll always come first.
But Mac…Mac is family. Not the kind unchosen by the red stuff that keeps your heart beating, but something more. And… And I failed her. I promised her I’d never leave her alone after Braden died.
I mean she kinda left us…
SHUT THE FUCK UP, DO YOU WANT HER TO FUCKING KILL US?
“Mac…” I whisper, voice low, raw, because I don’t know what else to say. Because any apology I can give will never be enough. She stands there, sneer in place, Logan ready to back her if she decides to throw hands.
Say something.
I swallow. Hard.
Chapter Seventeen
Seraphina
Daylight – Taylor Swift
Istand, because I can’t sit still, because the raw ache of watching Mac unravel is clawing at my chest, and Trey moves before I can even think, his hands on her shoulders, pulling her into his arms. I see it all—the collapse, the tears spilling down Mac’s face, the way she clings to him like she was afraid she’d never get to again—makes my chest tighten.
He carries her to a nearby table, sliding into the seat and keeping her on his lap, his arms wrapped around her with that quiet, unshakable devotion he reserves for the people he loves.
A twisted part of me—one I don’t want to acknowledge—flares with something close to jealousy at the attention he gives her, but it fades quickly, replaced by something softer. Awe. Admiration.
Because even as she sobs, he lowers his voice—so low, so steady—that I can almost feel the calm threading through her panic.
A figure approaches, catching me off guard, and my heart leaps into my throat before I register Logan. He pulls me into a hug without hesitation, his arms strong, grounding, comforting.
“It’s good to see you, Seraphina,” he murmurs, holding me close. “Mac’s been a mess. She’s very emotional, and Trey is like a brother to her.” His piercing blue eyes flick toward them. “Trey will calm her down.”
“—Or piss her off enough that she forgets she was sad. He’s good at that. Nimble prick he is, dancing out of his hospital room just to head straight for Vegas.”
Sam.
He pats me once before dropping into a seat, already pulling out his phone. “Oh, also—hi, Seraphina. I’m glad you’re in one piece. Unlike your husband, el-fuk-tardo.”
