She pointed her bread crust in my direction. “You never suspected a thing, did you?”
“No.” Had I guessed my wife would think of me on my birthday and plan an event so thoughtful it would take out my heart, wrap it in flowers, and hand it back to me? No, I hadn’t guessed that. A birthday party this personalized was what people who loved each other did. Not two people who had been forced into a marriage. I knew my feelings for Olivia had crossed a line into full-on adoration. But the question was, what did she feel for me? “I assume you helped, Sylvie, so thank you.”
“Olivia was the master planner. Worked her tail off. But all the family helped. Because that’s what family does.” Sylvie brushed some crumbs off the tablecloth, but her focus never strayed from my face.
“I’m very grateful.”
“And you also look confused, hesitant, and like you’re possibly losing feeling in your lower extremities.”
At least two of those were correct.
“Let me tell you something, Lachlan.” Sylvie stepped closer and put her hand on my shoulder. “You’re family now, so you’re one of us.”
My eyes stung, and I had to blink and look away. What was wrong with me tonight? One mention of the wordfamily, and I wanted to throw my arms around Sylvie and beg her to let me stay forever.
“It’s an honor to be welcomed,” I finally said.
Sylvie’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and I knew she was holding up each word to the light and giving it a good study. “Sometimes it’s hard to let yourself be loved, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for my reply. “But it’s there anyway—yours for the taking. Maybe it doesn’t look like we think it will or happen the way we thought it would.” She watched the room for a moment. “And sometimes the chance is offered to us only for a little while. So you have to be brave enough to take it. Else you’ll risk losing what could be the best thing you never even knew you wanted.”
I could hear my own heartbeat. Feel sweat bead at my brow.
“You’re part of this family now, Lachlan.” Sylvie patted my back. “You’re good for our girl, and I do hope you’ll stick around.”
Thoughts heavy, my gaze drifted over the living room and foyer.
“Olivia snuck outside.” With a long red nail, Sylvie pointed to my left. “Back door. Dollars to diamonds, you’ll find her on the porch. She’s always been a stargazer, our Olivia.”
The woman had eyes in the back of her head. “Thank you.”
“No, my dear.” Sylvie curved her hand against my rough cheek. “Thank you.”
I wove through the crowd, ignoring Miller’s offer of a drink and pretending not to hear Frannie’s catcall to dance. Exiting the living room, I made a beeline for the kitchen, as my man-leggings and I strode out the back door.
Then I saw her.
Standing at the edge of the porch, staring up at the stars. She was the light in the dark, my Olivia.
The storm door slammed behind me, and she turned.
“Lachlan. Hey.” The corners of her mouth lifted in a tired smile. “How do you like the party?”
I was by her side in four strides.
Four steps to get to Olivia, lay my hands on her like I’d wanted to since we left her car, and pull her taut against my body. I’d intended to draw her to me and kiss her until we both couldn’t breathe.
So how to explain what happened instead?
Somehow I just…hugged her. I wrapped my arms around my wife and held her like she was the only thing that could steady all that was shaky and unstable within me. My cheek found a place to rest on the top of her head, and I breathed in the scent of candy, a distant neighbor’s bonfire, and the essence that was Olivia. She felt so right in my arms. Even with our height difference, she was still the perfect fit.
“Thank you,” I managed to say. “Thank you, Olivia.”
Delicate hands that commandeered a thousand tasks a day curved around my waist. Olivia melted against me, and I closed my eyes, letting myself be in the moment and absorb the new sensations of safety and…wholeness. This might not be love, but it could be the closest I ever got, and I wanted it to seep into my every pore.
Words failed me, as they often did. I wasn’t the eloquent one between us. Olivia had provided a Halloween night that ten-year-old Lachlan never got to experience. I had friends inside the house and a table of wrapped presents bearing tags with my name. Yet what mattered most—almost to the point of aching—was the heart and care behind it all. That was the greatest gift.
“Hey, Lachlan?” came Olivia’s voice.
I sighed against her hair. “We have to go in, don’t we?”
