“Are we too late?” his dad asked, beaming so wide his cheeks practically creased shut. “We dropped everything. We weren’t going to miss this.”
“We’re so proud of you, baby.”
Paul swallowed hard, blinking against the sudden burn in his eyes. He hugged his parents tighter, gratitude pressing so hard against his ribs he could barely breathe.
He'd grown up so lucky—so loved. Even when he made mistakes. Even when he didn't know the right words.
He wanted that for Birdy. For Beverly. For the baby. For all of them. Even for Zeke. That kid's mother was awful, and she shouldn't have contact with her grandbaby, maybe not even with her son.
Paul wanted to be the kind of man his father had been—steady, loyal, always standing in the corner of the woman he loved, no matter what storms came.
He wanted to marry Birdy Chou. Not because they had to. Not because of guardianship or appearances. But because he loved her. And he wasn't about to lose her without a fight.
Paul pulled back from the hug, grinning a little as he ruffled his dad’s thinning hair.
“No,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “You’re not too late.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Birdy stormed through the big double doors of City Hall. She moved fast, furious, certain she’d combust if she didn’t keep going. But with every determined step, the fire inside her began to sputter. Burn itself down to something quieter. Something dangerously close to… regret.
He’d rejected her again.
Except—he hadn’t.
Not really.
Paul hadn’t rejected her the first time, either. The first time, it had been a power outage and a chat window lost to the storm. The second time, it had been misunderstanding and heat-of-the-moment pride. Every time she’d retreated, Paul had come back. With patience. With clarity. With that steady, maddening calm that made her want to shake him and kiss him in the same breath.
Even today—just now—it hadn’t been rejection. He hadn’t run. He hadn’t turned cold. He’d explained. Or tried to. He’d even told her he loved her, or close enough to break her heart wide open.
The thought hit her like a cold wind, slicing straight through her layers of defensiveness and fear. What was she afraid of, really? That he’d leave? Paul always came back. He listened. He explained. He gave her space—and still stood firm.
Maybe it wasn’t Paul she didn’t trust. Maybe it was herself.
Birdy slowed just outside the clerk’s office, her heart thudding like a second hand ticking out her indecision. She could keep walking. Keep pretending she was better off alone. Or…
She glanced back toward the doors she’d come through. Or she could go back.
Inside, her sisters and Beverly all turned toward her, smiles bright, faces expectant. The baby let out a happy squeal from Beverly’s arms, tiny legs kicking like she already sensed this was a big day.
Bunny tilted her head. “Everything okay?”
Kitty elbowed her playfully. “Or were you and your husband-to-be getting an early start on the honeymoon?”
Both sisters giggled, delighted. Birdy swallowed hard and forced a tight smile.
She glanced at Beverly—at the way the girl’s shoulders had finally dropped from their usual tense hunch, at the lightness in her eyes she hadn't dared show before.
How could she tell her? How could she tell Beverly that everything she thought she was getting today—safety, family, a future—was about to be ripped away?
Birdy’s stomach twisted so hard she had to press a hand to it. The silk of her dress felt too tight, too stiff. She couldn't breathe. Her throat burned. She feared she might actually be sick, right here in the echoing hall of City Hall, where the lights overhead buzzed like distant judgment.
“Just had to go over some details,” she said.
“Sure,” Kitty said with a quirk to her lips.
“I just need to freshen up,” Birdy said lightly, smoothing a hand over her skirt.
