Page 102 of Knot the One They Want

As if summoned by our thoughts, the front door opens, and Damien's familiar footsteps echo through the foyer. He appears in the kitchen doorway a moment later, his tie loosened and his jacket slung over one arm.

"Sorry I'm late," he says, his eyes immediately seeking out Evie. The tension visibly drains from his shoulders as he takes her in, safe and happy in our home.

Evie turns, favoring him with a warm smile. "You're just in time. Dinner's almost ready."

Damien crosses the room, pressing a tender kiss to Evie's forehead before moving to hang up his jacket. The casual intimacy of the gesture, so unlike the Damien of old, puts some of my fears to rest.

Asher arrives a few minutes later, completing our little family. As we gather around the table, passing dishes and trading stories about our day, I'm struck by how natural it all feels. How right.

Evie sits at the head of the table, her presence a soothing balm that smooths over any lingering rough edges between us. She laughs at Asher's terrible jokes, listens intently to Damien's work stories, and playfully teases Cole when he goes in for his third helping.

And through it all, she keeps shooting me these little glances, soft and secret, like we're sharing some private joke. It makes me want to sweep her into my arms and never let go.

As the last forkful of dessert disappears, a comfortable lull settles over the table. I clear my throat, drawing everyone's attention.

"I have an announcement," I say, my heart quickening. "I've invited our families to my art showing next week."

The reaction is immediate. Damien's eyebrows shoot up, Asher grins widely. Cole already knows, so he doesn't react visibly at all—not that he ever really does.

But it's Evie's response that catches my eye. Her smile falters for just a moment, a flicker of something—worry? fear?—crossing her face before she schools her expression.

"That's wonderful, Lake," she says, her voice a touch too bright. "I'm sure it'll be lovely to have everyone there."

The others launch into excited chatter about the event, but I can't shake the nagging feeling that something's off with Evie. She participates in the conversation, laughing at the right moments and asking appropriate questions, but there's a tension in her shoulders that wasn't there before.

As dinner winds down, Evie stands to clear the plates. "I'll take care of the dishes," she offers, but Damien waves her off.

"Nonsense," he says, rising to his feet. "You cooked. We'll clean."

"Yeah, Evie," Asher chimes in, already stacking plates. "Go relax. We've got this."

I seize the opportunity, gently taking Evie's hand. "Why don't we take a walk in the garden? The night air is perfect."

She hesitates for a moment before nodding, allowing me to lead her outside. The cool evening breeze caresses our skin as we stroll hand in hand through the manicured paths of the Blackwood estate.

"Evie," I start, my voice soft. "Is everything okay? You seemed... off when I mentioned the families coming to the showing. If you're not comfortable with it, I can tell them not to come.

She turns to me, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Of course not. Everything's fine. I'm just a little nervous aboutmeeting everyone again for the first time since our mating ceremony, that's all."

I stop, turning to face her fully. "Evie," I say gently, cupping her face in my hands. "You know you can be honest with me, right? If something's bothering you, I want to know."

She looks away, biting her lip. For a moment, I think she's going to brush me off again. But then she sighs, her shoulders sagging.

"It's just... my family," she admits quietly. "They're not exactly the most supportive. I'm not sure they'll even show up."

The admission hits me like a punch to the gut. Suddenly, their absence at the hospital takes on a whole new meaning. It wasn't just a fluke or bad timing. They really don't appreciate her.

"Oh, Evie," I breathe, pulling her into my arms. She buries her face in my chest, her body trembling slightly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she mumbles against my shirt. "I'm used to it."

But it's not okay. Not at all. And the realization that we, her pack, initially treated her with the same disregard as her family... it's like a knife twisting in my heart.

"No, it's not okay," I say firmly, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze. "You deserve so much better than that. And I'm sorry we didn't see it sooner."

A single tear escapes, rolling down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb, my chest aching at the vulnerability in her eyes.

"Thank you for telling me," I whisper, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "For being honest and open with me. It means more than you know."

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