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Kai steps closer to the railing, his silhouette outlined against the soft moonlight. His face is unreadable, but his voice is quieter than usual—low and thoughtful.

“I can’t believe you’ll marry Sierra, man.” He doesn’t look at me. He's staring at the Thomases’ house across the pool, at the soft golden light behind the curtains, as if he’s seeing something more than just a building.

I swallow, something thick rising in my throat. A part of me wants to laugh, to throw some sarcastic comment back, but I can’t.

Not tonight.

I sit up a little straighter, heart slow and steady, and speak without hesitation.

“I can,” I say. And I mean every word. “Because it’s her. It's always been her.”

The silence that follows is deep. The kind that says everyone understands.

No one says anything for a while. And I don’t feel the need to. Because in this quiet, with my brothers around me and the woman I love just a breath away, I’ve never felt more certain in my life.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Sierra

The air is thick with the scent of peonies and jasmine, drifting lazily through the open windows like a lullaby for the soul.

I sit cross-legged on the floor, wrapped in my soft lilac robe, its silk cool against my skin. Around me, candles flicker in messy circles of light, casting golden shadows over half-finished glasses of wine and the relaxed limbs of the people I love most.

Laughter explodes from the couch as Thalis flings her arm in the air, retelling one of her infamous dating stories. Her eyes sparkle, wild and animated, and I can’t help but laugh along, even if my mind is somewhere else.

There’s warmth here. Not just from the candles or the wine—I only had half a glass—but from them. My people. My strength. My family.

Liam and Zayn joined us a little earlier, after spending some time with Nick and his brothers in the Hardys’ house. Now, they’re sprawled around the room in the most comfortable ways, like they belong here—because they do. Their presence settles something in me. A sense of peace I didn’t even know I needed.

I glance down at my hands, noticing the slight tremble in my fingers.

My nails are blush pink—my favorite color. The one Nick always notices.

Tomorrow. My wedding.

I let the thought sink into my chest like a slow breath.

How did we get here? How is this real?

Zayn tosses a pillow behind his head, stretching across the couch with a smile. “Jesus, I can’t believe tomorrow you’ll be a Hardy.”

I roll my eyes, a soft smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “I’ll always be a Thomas too, Z.”

Liam chuckles from the armchair, reaching forward to refill his glass. He swirls the wine like it holds the answers to every unspoken fear in the room.

“Don’t let Nick hear you say that—ever.”

“Yes, Ser,” Thalia cackles, already tipsy on wine and emotions. She lifts her glass toward me with a grin that dares the world to touch me. “He’ll lose his fucking mind.”

Thalia straightens up with a dramatic flair, like she’s about to deliver a speech at a gala instead of in a circle of friends surrounded by blankets and candles.

“Let’s make a toast. To Sierra—the most stubborn, brilliant, and gorgeous woman I know. And to Nick—for somehow winning her over and being the spectacular bastard he is.”

We all laugh, the sound rich and full and a little too loud for the quiet of the night. Our glasses clink softly, like a secret pact between us.

“To love and happiness,” Liam says.

“And to beginnings.” Zayn’s voice is quieter this time. Deeper. “Because tomorrow is a new beginning for the both of you.”