Lily’s eyes shine instantly. Tears gathering like they’ve been waiting for the right moment. Luc’s gaze flicks to Larkin, and his voice softens. “And we have her. Our angel. We have this life. And I don’t want to keep living like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t want to keep wondering if tomorrow steals you from me again.”
He drops to one knee. The bartender appears at his side with a tray, and my stomach drops again because I see what’s on it. A ring box. The air leaves my lungs like I’ve been punched.
“Oh my God,” Sadie gasps, clutching onto Dean’s bicep, who’s muttering holy shit like he can’t decide if he’s proud or jealous, instinct kicking in a second later as she raises the camera and starts clicking.
Luc opens the ring box and holds it up, his hands steady now, like once he commits, he becomes unstoppable. “Lilith Jillian Anderson,” his voice thick, “I loved you before you remembered me. I loved you when you didn’t. I love you now, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Marry me. Be my wife. Be mine. Be my forever.”
Lily covers her mouth with her free hand, tears spilling. “Yes,” she whispers, her head bobbing up and down emphatically.
Luc stands and yanks her into him, and the entire backyard erupts into cheers and clapping, someone yelling, “About damn time!”
Marie is crying openly, grabbing my mom in a tight hug. Dad’s eyes are wet too, though he pretends they aren’t.
I’m clapping. Smiling. Doing all the right things. But inside, something goes sharp. He’s first. He always has been. I’m proud of him. I am. But there’s the other thought. The one I don’t want;you’ll never be that.
I turn away before it can get uncomfortable. That’s when I realize Quinn isn’t watching them. She’s watching me. Like she felt it. Like she knew exactly when something shifted.
“You okay?” she checks quietly. The noise around us blurs. Laughter. Someone yelling congratulations. Dean making some comment I don’t catch. Hayden handing Luc a drink. But Quinn’s voice cuts through it clean.
“I’m fine,” I lie automatically.
Her expression doesn’t change. “You’re not.”
I tighten my grip on the bottle. “I don’t need-”
“Don’t,” she shakes her head, softer now. “Don’t do the thing. Not right now.”
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “What thing? Standing at my brother’s engagement party like a normal human?”
She doesn’t smile. That should bother me less than it does.
“Congratulations to them,” I declare instead, forcing the words into place. “They deserve it.”
“They do.” She studies me. “But it didn’t feel good, did it?”
I snort. “Wow. Subtle.”
Her gaze holds. “Accurate.”
Something sharp flashes through me. “Stop acting like you know me.”
Her head tilts slightly. “You say that every time I get a little too close to the truth.”
My pulse spikes. My instinct is immediate; to reach for her, crowd her space, turn this into something physical so I don’t have to stand here feeling like this. So, I do what I always do; I step in close, lowering my voice, letting the familiar tone slide into place. “You like getting close?” I drawl. “Because I can be very good at close.”
Quinn doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lean in. Doesn’t pull away. She just looks at me like she’s watching a trick she’s already seen.
“There it is,” she concludes quietly.
My jaw tightens. “There what is?”
“The shift.” Her voice is calm. “When you stop feeling it and turn it into something else.”
My heart kicks hard against my ribs. “That’s not what I do.” The words come out too fast. Too defensive.
Quinn’s expression softens just a fraction. Not pity. Not sympathy. Something steadier. “I’m not judging you,” she tries to clarify. “But I’m not going to be another distraction you use to prove or forget something.”
My throat works around something I don’t want there. “I have something to prove now?”
