I looked at the ceiling.
“Family,” Jace’s mom said brightly. “Such a blessing.”
“Is it?” I asked.
She patted my arm. “Tonight it is.”
Then she herded them all away like a woman with practice controlling chaos.
For three seconds, the kitchen was quiet.
Isa stood beside me, holding hot chocolate with both hands, looking up through damp lashes like she suddenly remembered we had to exist after the grand gesture.
That was the thing about big moments.
They exploded.
Then they left you standing in the smoke with the person you’d just handed your whole chest to.
“You okay?” I asked.
She gave me a look. “You have asked me that six hundred times since August.”
“And you’ve lied about five hundred ninety-nine of them.”
Her mouth curved.
Then faded.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Scared.”
My grip tightened around my mug.
“Of me?”
“No.” She looked down at my ring. “Of how much this matters.”
I couldn’t breathe right.
“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”
Her eyes lifted.
Not polished.
Not performing.
Just Isa.
My Isa, if I was brave enough to think it.
“I meant what I said,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Her face changed. “You do?”
I set my mug on the counter. Then hers.
