The noise.
The heat rising off the pavement.
It’s chaos.
Absolute chaos.
But tonight?
Tonight it feels like a celebration.
Like the whole city is throwing a party just for us.
I’m floating.
Actually floating.
Like my feet aren’t touching the ground.
Like everything that hurt me, everything that broke me, everything I thought I lost—just got rewritten.
We pass a street vendor, and before I can even process it, Benji’s buying an ice cream cone.
“Chocolate with sprinkles for my wife, please,” he says casually.
My wife.
I bite back a laugh as he hands it to me, and we share it as we walk—him taking a bite, me taking the next, our shoulders brushing, our fingers still linked.
It’s delicious.
And so simple.
So normal.
And somehow?
It means everything.
We reach the Stargazer in what feels like minutes, though it must’ve been longer.
The building towers above us, glass and gold and glittering lights that reflect the city in a thousand directions.
Inside?
It’s even more unreal.
Marble floors.
Crystal chandeliers.
People dressed like they belong on magazine covers.
And then there’s me.
Jeans.
Tank top.
