A heavy silence falls over the group. Even Ethan stops mid-sentence to stare at me.
"Well, damn." Cole breaks the tension with a low whistle. "He's actually genuine."
"Told you," Emma says softly, but her eyes shine with approval.
Alisha studies me for a long moment before her lips twitch. "Fine. But I'm still watching you, Saint."
"I'd expect nothing less."
The conversation flows easier after that. Stories start circulating—embarrassing moments, shared adventures, the kind of memories that come from years of genuine friendship. Ethan, the traitor, contributes tales from our boarding school days that have everyone laughing.
"Wait, wait," Amanda gasps between giggles, "you actually climbed out the window to avoid the headmaster?"
"In my defense," I try to maintain some dignity, "Ethan said the rope would hold."
"How was I supposed to know you'd put on muscle that semester?" Ethan protests. "Besides, that rosebush broke your fall perfectly."
"The thorns in my ass disagreed."
Laughter erupts again, and I find myself relaxing into it. These people—they're good for Isabella. They protected her when I couldn't, loved her when I failed. The way they include me now, despite everything, speaks volumes about their characters.
"To Bella," Brian says, raising his glass. "And her strength in the face of adversity."
"To Bella!" The chorus of voices rises, filled with pride and unwavering support.
I can't help but be moved by the genuine affection in their toasts, the way they rally around Isabella with such fierce loyalty.
"And to new paintings, new shows, and a future even brighter than the past!" Amanda calls out, eliciting another round of cheers.
I watch the exchange, struck by the warmth and camaraderie. These people don't just love Isabella—they believe in her, in her art, in her ability to overcome. It's the kind of support I've always craved but rarely found, and seeing it surround the woman I love fills me with a profound sense of gratitude.
Amanda grabs Bella's hand and I watch as the women move as one unit toward the dancefloor, years of friendship evident in their synchronized movement. I can't tear my eyes away from Isabella as she lets loose on the dance floor, all fluid grace and uninhibited joy.
"She's something else, isn't she?" Cole's voice is quiet beside me.
"She's everything." The words come without thought.
He nods, understanding in his eyes. "She's been our anchor, you know. Through all of it, the hard times, the victories, the moments when giving up seemed easier than fighting. Bella never wavered."
My chest tightens. "I should have been there."
"Maybe." Cole takes a thoughtful sip of his drink. "But you're here now. That's what matters."
Nick leans forward, his expression thoughtful as he watches Isabella dancing. "You know, I've never seen her like this with anyone before." His words draw my attention. "She's always been the one pushing others toward happiness—playing matchmaker, supporting everyone else's relationships. But herself?" He shakes his head. "She kept that part locked away."
"The way she looks at you," Brian cuts in, swirling his whiskey, "that's different. Trust me, I've seen her date. Nothing even comes close to this."
My heart squeezes at their words, but before I can respond, Cole's voice drops an octave lower. "Just don't fuck this up, Saint." His blue eyes lock onto mine with laser focus. "We like you—surprisingly—but if we have to choose sides..." He lets the sentence hang.
"It's our Bella all the way," Nick finishes, his friendly demeanor hardening just enough to make the threat clear.
"Damn." Ethan whistles low. "Give a man some warning before you go all mafia on him."
The three men burst out laughing, the tension breaking as quickly as it formed. "Hey, we're just returning the favor," Brian says, grinning. "She did the same for all of us when we started dating her friends."
Cole nods, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Told me she'd cut my balls off and hang them as an art installation if I ever hurt Alisha."
"Seriously?" I can't help but laugh, picturing Isabella delivering that threat with her characteristic fire.
