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“You must be Lily.” The shorter woman, Kim, with kind eyes and graying brunette hair steps forward first.

I nod, extending my hand. “Yes, and you’re⁠—”

Hudson’s mom doesn’t let me finish. She pulls me into a hug so fierce and warm that I’m momentarily stunned. Her partner follows suit, and I’m sandwiched between two women who smell like vanilla and cinnamon.

“We’ve heard so much about you, sweetheart,” Kim whispers against my ear. “Thank you for making our boy so happy.”

My throat is thick with emotion. I wasn’t expecting this level of acceptance, this immediate warmth, but before I can get too sappy about that, more cars pull into the driveway.

The next hour becomes a beautiful blur of greetings and hugs. Hudson’s dad arrives with a booming laugh and stories about Hudson’s childhood that make me snort wine through my nose. Cole’s parents, Carol and John, show up with enough side dishes to feed half the town, his mom immediately commandeering our kitchen like she owns it.

A moment later, Callie bursts through the door with the Williams brothers in tow, all of them arguing about something football-related, and Aspen trails behind looking adorably flustered in her reindeer sweater.

“Holy shit, Lily,” Callie whistles, taking in our decorations. “You guys went all out.”

“Language,” Aspen chides automatically, then catches herself. “Sorry, force of habit. Kindergarteners, you know?”

I’m floating between conversations, refilling glasses, accepting compliments on the house, watching my guys interact with everyone. Hudson’s sharing our summer vacation plans with his parents while Gage shows Cole’s dad his latest woodworking creation. Cole’s deep in conversation with Callie about God knows what, but they’re both gesturing wildly and laughing.

By the time we finish dinner and migrate to the living room, my cheeks hurt from smiling. Everyone settles around the tree in various configurations. Some on the couch, others sprawled on the floor, Aspen curled up in the recliner like a contented cat.

An ache tugs at my heart as I look around at all these faces. Mom would have loved this. I saw her this morning, but she was having a rough day. She kept slipping between the present and Christmases from years ago. She gets overwhelmed easily on days like today, and this many people would have been too much. I’m learning to live with her absence in moments like these. It still hurts, but it’s a gentler pain now, more like missing a favorite song than feeling like part of my soul has been ripped away.

“All right, everyone grab your presents!” Gage announces, playing Santa as he distributes colorful packages to eager hands. Soon everyone has a small mountain of gifts in front of them, and the anticipation in the room is infectious. “Okay, on three.” Gage counts down, his voice carrying across the room. “One . . . two . . .”

“Fuck it!” Cole tears into his biggest package on two, sending wrapping paper flying.

The room erupts in laughter and complete carnage ensues. Paper is everywhere, squeals of delight bounce off the walls, and everyone’s talking over each other as they show off their gifts.

Through it all, my focus is drawn to my men. Hudson is laughing at something his mom is saying while holding up the new watch Gage got him. Gage throws a half-hearted punch at Cole’s arm as he watches him tear into another package before picking up one of his own. He catches me watching and winks at me. I smile back, heart full.

Everything is so fucking perfect I could cry.

But there’s still one more thing I need to take care of.

I stand on the sidewalk, staring up at the house that’s consumed so much of my life these past few months. The fresh coat of sage green paint gleams in the cold but bright winter afternoon sun, and the white trim looks crisp and clean. The porch no longer sags, the shutters hang straight, and every window sparkles.

It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.

My chest tightens as I think about how far this place has come. When I bought it from Mom, it was a disaster. Peeling paint, rotting wood, overgrown yard. Then came the renovation, the guys finding me sleeping here. The darkness of Sarah kidnapping me and trying to kill me. Her death.

Now the house looks like something straight out of a home and garden magazine. You’d never know someone died in it, unless of course you read the disclosures.

The guys outdid themselves. This house could be someone’s dream home. I take a deep breath, the weight of the For Sale sign in my hands. Mom always talked about fixing up this place, making it a bed and breakfast and I held on to her dream, even when it made no financial sense, even when I knew I didn’t want to do it, because I felt like losing the house would be losing another part of her. After the stuff with Sarah, the house was tainted.

How can I operate a B&B if I don’t even want to be inside of it?

“Are you ready?” Callie asks softly. She and Aspen flank me like bodyguards, both holding wooden stakes to hammer the sign into the ground.

I nod, though my throat feels tight. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

We walk to the edge of the lawn. I position the sign while they get the stakes ready. The sound of hammering fills the quiet street as we work together, none of us saying much. When it’s done, I step back and stare at the bold lettering: FOR SALE - Lily Emerson, Big Ridge Realty.

My name. My listing. My choice. The knot in my chest loosens just a little. With this house up for sale, and the other leads Addison has started sending my way, I quit the second job to focus on real estate. After everything, Laura announced she was leaving so that psycho’s reputation wouldn’t impact hers, and honestly, we’re all better off with her departure. Ryan’s been a little nicer ever since and Addison is actually turning out to be pretty great when she’s not being bullied.

“How are you feeling?” Aspen asks, bumping my shoulder with hers.

I exhale slowly, surprised by my answer. “Good. Really good, actually.” I turn to face my friends. “Am I a terrible person for being relieved?”