登入The first thing I learned after getting engaged was this: Apparently, everyone had opinions. Strong opinions. Very loud opinions. And unfortunately, every single person in our family seemed determined to share them. “It should be a spring wedding.” Rachel sat across from me with complete confidence. Lila immediately disagreed. “Absolutely not.” Rachel frowned. “Why?” “Because spring weddings are overrated.” “They are not.” “They absolutely are.” I looked toward Ethan. He was sitting beside me on the couch. Watching the argument unfold. Entirely too amused. “Help me.” His mouth twitched. “No.” Traitor. Complete traitor. Three days had passed since the engagement dinner. Three days. And somehow wedding discussions had already become a full-time occupation. Not that I was complaining. Not really. Because every time I looked down and saw the ring on my finger— My heart still did something ridiculous. Something embarrassingly emotional. Something that made me
There are moments in life you imagine countless times. Moments you secretly hope for. Moments you wonder about when you’re alone. And somehow— When they finally happen, they’re nothing like you expected. They’re better. Much better. I stood beside Ethan in the center of the room, my hand still resting in his. My heart was beating so hard I was convinced everyone could hear it. Across the table, Rachel looked one second away from crying. Lila already looked emotional. Adrian looked far too entertained. And both Nathan and Caroline were smiling like they knew exactly what was coming. Traitors. Every single one of them. Ethan glanced around the room. Then shook his head slightly. “I had a speech.” That earned a laugh from several people. Including me. His gaze returned to mine. “I spent three days working on it.” “Only three?” The corner of his mouth lifted. “I started over fourteen times.” That surprised me. Because Ethan Blackwood did not struggle with words.
I never imagined a dining table could make me nervous. Not a boardroom. Not a crowded ballroom. Not even the media attention that had followed Ethan for months. A dining table. Yet as I stood beside Ethan outside the private room of one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants, my stomach felt suspiciously unstable. Beside me, Ethan looked calm. Infuriatingly calm. “You’re enjoying this.” His mouth twitched. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Liar.” “I prefer selectively truthful.” I rolled my eyes. Unfortunately, my nervousness eased slightly. That was Ethan’s gift. Somehow, he always knew exactly when to make me laugh. Even when I didn’t want to. Especially when I didn’t want to. His hand found mine. Warm. Steady. “You ready?” No. Absolutely not. But when I looked at him, I smiled anyway. “Yes.” And together, we walked inside. The room was already occupied. Rachel sat beside Dad. Lila sat beside Adrian. Nathan Blackwood stood near the window
I had negotiated billion-dollar acquisitions. Faced hostile investors. Handled corporate crises. Survived being shot. Yet somehow, standing in Ava’s father’s backyard made me more nervous than any of them. The realization was deeply irritating. The evening air was cool. Quiet. The sounds of conversation drifted faintly from inside the house. Rachel’s laughter. Ava’s voice. The familiar rhythm of family. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Her father stood beside the wooden fence, hands in his pockets, staring toward the garden. Waiting. Giving me the opportunity to begin. Unfortunately. I suddenly understood why people dreaded these conversations. Finally, he glanced toward me. “You seem nervous.” I exhaled. “No point pretending otherwise.” A smile touched his face. “Good.” That wasn’t the answer I expected. “Good?” He nodded. “If you weren’t nervous, I’d be concerned.” Fair. Honestly. Very fair. The silence returned. Comfortable this time. Not awkward.
Three days after lunch with Caroline, Ethan was still pretending he wasn’t planning something. I knew because every time I asked what was going on, he gave me the same suspiciously innocent smile. The one that usually meant trouble. Unfortunately, nobody else was any better. Rachel had been acting strangely all week. And every time I walked into a room, conversations seemed to stop. Which was never a good sign. By six o’clock, I was regretting every decision that had led to this moment. Including agreeing to family dinner. Including answering Rachel’s calls. And possibly including falling in love with Ethan Blackwood. “You’re staring at the mirror again.” I looked over my shoulder. Ethan stood near the apartment door adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. Looking entirely too calm. Which was suspicious. “I’m mentally preparing.” “For dinner?” “For my family.” A faint smile appeared. “Should I be worried?” “Yes.” The answer came immediately. Without hesitation. His a
I spent entirely too much time deciding what to wear. Which was ridiculous. Because this wasn’t a job interview. It wasn’t a corporate event. It wasn’t even a family gathering. It was lunch. Just lunch. And yet I had changed outfits three times. Possibly four. I wasn’t counting. “You’re nervous.” Ethan’s voice came from the doorway. I glanced up from my closet. “You say that like it’s unusual.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It isn’t.” Rude. Accurate. But rude. I folded my arms. “What if she doesn’t like me?” His eyebrows immediately lifted. “Ava.” “What?” “Have you met yourself?” I stared at him. “I don’t know what that means.” “It means you’re worrying about something impossible.” The confidence in his answer warmed something inside my chest. Unfortunately, it didn’t help my nerves. Because today wasn’t about me. It was about him. About Caroline. About a relationship that had spent thirty-three years waiting to begin. And somehow I desp
The silence he left behind wasn’t peaceful. It was loud. Too loud. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the door like it might open again, like he might walk back in and say something that would undo everything he’d just set into motion. But it didn’t. And he didn’t. He was gone. Yet
By the time the weekend came, I needed distance. Not space. Distance. The kind that didn’t come from sitting across a desk pretending everything was normal, or walking past him like he didn’t affect me. I needed separation. Silence. Control. So I did what I always did when things started sli
By Friday, I told myself I had it under control again. The tension. The thoughts. Him. Everything neatly pushed back into place where it belonged. Work helped. It always did. Structure. Order. Logic. Things that made sense. Things that didn’t look at you like they could see throug
By Thursday evening, I was exhausted. Not physically. That, I could handle. It was the mental exhaustion. The kind that came from thinking too much, analyzing too much, feeling things you didn’t want to feel and then trying to bury them like they didn’t exist. Work had become my shield. Email







