He kept his eyes on me, almost as if this were a test I couldn’t possibly pass. But with Mom and Mila here, there was no real risk in being honest.
“In my experience,” I replied, “it still helps to send the strongest version you can make on your own. Labels can shape things, but you only get one chance to make a first impression.”
Dad twisted his mouth and waved a hand dismissively. “If you only ever wait for the perfect moment, it’ll never come.”
“Maybe. But the closer it is to his vision, the better. That way, they are less likely to try to change everything in a directionthat doesn’t suit him. So, waiting a little longer might not be the worst idea.”
He sat back, crossing his arms on his stomach. “At least it’s nice to know thatyou’reable to enjoy yourself again, Devin.”
Mila and Mom went still, neither daring to look at me, probably bracing for me to snap at him for still using that name. But I let it slide. He wasn’t going to change.
“I’m glad I made it this year,” I said instead.
“Same,” Mila agreed, nudging my shoulder.
Mom straightened her knit jacket and leaned forward to look at me, just like Dad had done a moment ago. “We’re all happy you came.”
“Well—” Dad groaned as if he had endured the exchanged pleasantries long enough. “I still have a candle to blow out.” He brushed his hands over his jeans, stood up, and marched to the door, pausing briefly to catch Mom’s eye.
They exchanged a quick look before she smiled at me and got up as well. As she stepped past me, her hands briefly caressing my shoulders before she followed him inside.
When the door slid open, the party’s lively chatter spilled into the backyard, making the silence that followed feel even heavier. Mila and I stayed where we were, both staring at the glowing cherry tree.
“You handled that really well,” Mila said after a few seconds. “I’m impressed. I didn’t expect you to stay that calm when Dad called you Devin again.”
I gave a casual shrug. “I’ve told him often enough, haven’t I?”
“You know, he’s not trying to be mean. Helovesthat name.”
“Whatever. Water under the bridge.”
My gaze drifted to the single lit window on the second floor of the main house. A shadow that could only be Alex moved across the ceiling.
“You want to go up there, don’t you?” Mila asked.
“Is it that obvious?”
“It’s okay if you do. You’re allowed to enjoy the evening however you want.”
“I betthe parentswould disagree.”
“Actually, they wouldn’t. While you two were gone, they both told me it was refreshing to see you so engaged with someone again. As long as you don’t forget your candle and show up for breakfast, you’re fine.”
“You think so?”
“M-hm.”
My eyes lingered on the window. The shadow was gone, but the light was still on. “Alex said he’d join us at the party in a bit. I don’t want to make him feel like he’s solely responsible for entertaining me. But… thanks. Now I won’t feel bad if we sneak off again later.”
“How very mature of you.”
“It’s about time, isn’t it?”
We held each other’s gaze for a moment before she pulled me into an awkward, overly tight hug.
“You’re strangling me!” I joked, making exaggerated groaning noises, which only made her squeeze harder.
“You get what you deserve.” She tightened her arms around me, pressing into my spine hard enough to actually hurt, then let go. “Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson,” she teased as she stood and headed for the door.
