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The restaurant is now open. Our restaurant.

Javier turns back to our guests.

“Make yourselves comfortable. There’s plenty of food, so eat, enjoy the evening, and thank you for being here.”

As everyone begins choosing tables, he comes to me and slips an arm around my waist. I lean closer as he lowers his head.

“Congratulations, my love,” he whispers.

I smile. “Congratulations to us.”

He kisses me, softly and briefly. I rest my hand against his chest for a moment before we turn toward our guests.

People begin to move. Some head inside to explore the dining room. Others stay beneath the wisteria, choosing candlelight, cool evening air, and dinner under the stars. Soon the whole place comes alive: conversations, laughter, glasses touching, music drifting through the open doors, servers moving easily between the dining room and patio, the smell of dinner filling the air.

Noah is already trying to convince Diego to help him steal something from the dessert station. Helen catches them both. Diego looks guilty. Noah does not.

I stand still for a moment. Just watching.

My mother laughing with Diana, Emma leaning into Jack with Ranger asleep at their feet, Atlas watching Javier from across the patio, Julian arguing with one of our cooks about the proper amount of salt in something he has no business interfering with, Diego beside Javier.

My nephew. My friends. My family. My restaurant. Our restaurant.

There was a time when coming back to Oakridge felt like something grief had forced me to do. I thought I was here because Lily was gone, because my mother needed me, because Noah needed me. Maybe all of that was true. But it isn't why I stayed.

I look around the patio again, at this loud, imperfect, beautiful life. Somewhere inside me, the ache of missing my sister settles beside the joy instead of fighting it.

My eyes fill.

Thanks, Lily.

I smile.

You knew all along.

My eyes find Javier. He's already looking at me. Of course he is.

I cross the patio. He opens one arm before I reach him. I slip into his side. His hand settles at my waist.

I take his face in both my hands and kiss him. When I pull back, he studies me.

"What was that for?"

"Because..."

"You're smiling."

"I do that sometimes."

He holds my gaze.

"Are you happy, my love?"

"I am."

His gaze drops to my ring, then returns to mine. His expression softens. He takes my hand and kisses my palm.

Around us, the restaurant is alive with the people we love.