A fierce wave of pride surged in my chest. Ben had faced every one of his demons, wrestled them into submission, and built a new life for himself. He wasn’t cocky or triumphant as he shook the commissioner’s hand. He was something far more powerful. He was grounded and sure. He had done the work.
The applause swelled, my family’s whoops the loudest in the room. I was on my feet, clapping until my palms stung, whistling loud and sharp. I poured every ounce ofenergy I had into that noise. I couldn’t fix my own life, but I could damn well celebrate his.
Ben caught my eye from the stage and nodded. I gave him a thumbs-up, grinning until my jaw ached.
See? I’m fine. Everything’s fine.
The celebration wasat Harper and Chase’s place, the quiet of the community center replaced by a warm, noisy mix of family life. The moment we walked in, I went into host mode. It was safer than standing still. I grabbed beers from the fridge and handed them out, making sure glasses were full, keeping my hands busy so they wouldn't shake.
The rich scent of roast chickens Harper pulled from the oven filled the air. Ben stood in the center of the kitchen, still in his suit but with his tie yanked loose. He was holding a beer and looking more at ease than I’d seen him in years. A genuine, unforced smile lit up his eyes as our family swirled around him.
“I barely survived my clinicals with Dr. Lewis,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “The man’s a legend, but he quizzes you while you’re trying to intubate a dummy. It’s brutal.”
“I’m sure you did great,” Harper said, bumping his shoulder with hers as she passed him a plate piled high with food. “You earned this, Ben. Every single bit of it.”
“Damn right,” Eli added, raising his bottle. “To the newest Coleridge with a respectable profession. I was getting tired of carrying this family’s reputation all by myself.”
The joke landed perfectly, and laughter filled the kitchen. I chimed in right on cue. “Don’t get a fat head, Eli. Half the tourists think your job is just professional snorkeling.”
It got a laugh. Good. The Golden Boy was performing as expected.
Ben swept his gaze over us, his smile fading. “Thanks, guys. For all the support and pep talks. I mean it.”
“Oh, Benjamin,” Mom said, her voice shaky as she reached out to straighten his collar. “We’re just so proud. We always knew you had this in you.”
“It’s not totally official yet,” Ben reminded her gently. “I still have to pass the paramedic exam in two weeks. After that, it’s real.”
“You’ll pass with flying colors,” Chase said confidently, clapping him on the back. “There’s no doubt about it.”
I kept moving, dodging the pockets of quiet where my thoughts might catch up to me. I joked with Austin about his new boat engine. I complimented Iris on the appetizers. I was the life of the party, and it was exhausting.
Dinner was a joyful commotion.Harper and Chase’s dining room was almost too small for all of us, though it was designed for exactly this—the table extended, chairs pushed to the margins, bottles of wine standing at attention. The smell of butter, lemon, and celebration hung in the air.
“Remember when Ben got banned from the community center for that thing with the basketball?” Eli was mid-story, and the table erupted in laughter. Ben was grinning, that slow smile that made him look years younger.
“I didn’t get banned.” Ben pointed his fork at Eli. “I was asked to leave.”
“For five months,” Austin added.
“Eight months,” Mom corrected.
The table howled. This was what my family did whenthey loved someone—they reminded them where they’d come from and celebrated how far they’d traveled.
But as the night wore on, my mask started to slip. It wasn't the sadness that got me. It was the love. Seeing Chase whisper to Harper. Watching Austin’s hand find the small of Iris’s back. It was all so effortless for them now, and witnessing it felt like looking at a language I used to speak but had suddenly forgotten.
Then came the cake. Iris, a bona fide baking wizard, brought out a towering confection frosted in white and red, with a ridiculously detailed, edible ambulance on top. It was a damn work of art. As the family gathered around, the candlelight flickering on their happy faces, the air in the kitchen became too thin. I couldn't breathe. The effort of pretending I wasn't bleeding out was suddenly too much.
“Gonna check the cooler,” I muttered to no one in particular, and slipped out the back.
The deck was an oasis of quiet. I walked to the railing and gripped the smooth wood, inhaling the humid night air in jagged gulps. I just stood there, shaking with the effort of holding myself together.
The screen door slid open, but I didn't turn around.
“We need more ice,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.
Eli came to stand beside me. He didn’t say anything, just handed me a fresh, cold bottle of beer. He leaned against the railing, sipping his own drink and staring at the dark water.
“You’re doing a hell of a job in there,” he said quietly. “Fooled Mom, I think. But you look like you’re about to snap in half.”
