I smile, the tension in my shoulders softening. “You mean this old thing?”
She laughs. “Megan and I still talk about it. You could read off the catering menu and we’d be happy.”
“You’re so sweet.” I’m grateful for her warmth.
“Welcome to the Wives Club,” she says, raising her glass.
“Thanks. The transition is… a lot.”
Julia joins the circle, her drink in hand and not a trace of a baby bump. “I remember all too well. At least I had the long-term girlfriend phase to prep me for the wife part. You sort of dove into the deep end.”
I laugh. “Sink or swim, right?”
Julia pulls out her phone and taps her screen, turning it toward me. “Speaking of life changes… meet Brayden.”
The photo is of a dark-haired baby swaddled in navy, cheeks round and kissable, a tiny fist curled at his chin.
“Oh, Julia. He’s beautiful.”
“Born while you were in the States. He’s home with Mum tonight. I needed adult energy and clothes that don’t reek of spit-up.”
“You look beautiful. Motherhood suits you.”
“Thank you.”
Megan loops an arm through mine as though we’ve known each other for years. “C’mon, and join us, Magnolia. We’re trading war stories over here. Locker-room pranks, surprise schedule changes, who lost it during post-game interviews.”
For the first time tonight, I let myself laugh—really laugh.
I catch Alex across the room, chatting with a circle of teammates, his eyes flicking to mine, the smallest smile tugging at his mouth. And something clicks into place.
I didn’t expect to be so welcome here. Or this safe. But I am. And I think that’s the scariest and most beautiful part of all.
I glance down at my glass, now empty. “I’m going to sneak off for a refill—anyone else?”
A soft chorus rises.
“All good here.”
“Still working on mine.”
“Just got a fresh one.”
The soft buzz of conversation fades behind me as I make my way down the garden path, heels clicking against the flagstone, to where the bartender is set up by the pool. Fairy lights hang like constellations overhead, casting a warm, romantic glow. I pause beneath them, letting the quiet settle. Just a moment to breathe.
But I’m not alone.
“Magnolia.”
I turn—and there he is.
Tyson steps from the shadows. Crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled, calm face, dangerous smile. It’s the same one he used to wear when he was crossing a line and didn’t care.
“You look beautiful, Mags. But it should be me beside you tonight. Not him.”
Why is he here? Kye and Krishna wouldn’t have invited him.
My spine straightens and I’m flooded with dread. “Please don’t do this again. Not here. Not tonight.”
