Page 44 of The Bridges I've Burned

Molly’s little sister was here, too?

Before I’d left, Macon had hated all these people. Now, they were at his engagement party.

Part of me wanted to be jealous or angry. While I had been gone, he’d built an entire life here—one we would have killed for while growing up in our lonely little house. But mostly, I was just relieved. I could leave here tomorrow, knowing he was taken care of.

He would be fine without me.

“First of all, we want to thank all of you for coming,” Macon continued. “Even the loud ones.” He gave a pointed stare in Millie’s direction, and this time, I turned and found her.

She’d been hot when we were young, but now? Damn. She was sitting next to a man I was surprised to recognize. I’d read about him after the memorial the town had commissioned after a ferry explosion several years earlier. That ferry explosion had made national news, and I’d never forget how my hands shook while I looked up the victims’ names on my phone.

I’d never been so relieved not to see Macon’s name in my life.

I hadn’t realized the artist had become a permanent resident of the island. Or Millie’s husband.

“I know some of you had to travel to be here tonight, like Marin’s parents and siblings.”

Marin smiled down at an older couple sitting next to her, and then she turned her attention back to Macon and squeezed his hand.

“And my brother, who flew in from Los Angeles to be here tonight.”

Macon’s voice had grown hoarse at the mention of me, his eyes finding me in the crowd. The room grew quiet.

Oh God, why did I come?

How could I do this to him?

I suddenly wanted to flee. But Elena’s hand squeezed my thigh, bringing me back to the present, and I placed my palm down on top, taking a deep breath.

“I know a lot of you had planned on a fall wedding,” he went on.

That was news to me, and my brow lifted. They’d moved up the wedding?

“No one more than my pumpkin-latte-loving bride, but sometimes, life throws little curveballs, and you have to adjust.”

They both looked at each other, grinning.

Marin took over as I noticed my brother’s eyes grow wet with tears. “Our little curveball is due in December?—”

The restaurant went wild. Gasps, shouts of joy. Marin’s mother burst into tears, and among all that, Elena’s hand flipped over, and her fingers wrapped around mine.

Did she know?

I snuck a glance at her, but she seemed just as shell-shocked as me.

“If you’ll do us all a favor,” Macon’s voice boomed, quieting everyone instantly as he smiled ear to ear, “and lift your plates, Marin is dying to know what color to paint the nursery.”

Everyone raced to lift their plates, but I turned to Elena instead, her hand still wrapped around mine like a lifeline. She reached for her plate at the same time as me.

Discreetly taped under the plate, there was a heart.

And that heart was pink.

The news hit me like a bullet train.

I’m going to be an uncle.

CHAPTER SEVEN

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