Page 50 of All The Pretty Little Lies

“To be fair, you actually had me at ice cream.”

I watch as Talon springs up from the table, his enthusiasm palpable. He practically bounces to the freezer, pulling out pint after pint of ice cream. The colorful containers create a rainbowof frozen delights as he arranges them in front of Vesper with a flourish.

"Your choices, milady," he announces with an exaggerated bow. "From the classic to the exotic, we have it all."

Vesper's eyes widen, a childlike wonder spreading across her face. It's a stark contrast to the haunted look she wore just moments ago. She leans forward, examining each flavor with careful consideration. To my surprise, she reaches for the lavender honey.

"Excellent choice," Talon beams, his grin threatening to split his face in two. He turns to Zaire, waggling his eyebrows triumphantly. "See that, Z? I told you the fancy flavors were a good idea."

Zaire responds with a raised middle finger, but I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, don't let it go to your head, golden boy."

Talon just laughs, grabbing a spoon and handing it to Vesper with a flourish. "Your implement of ice cream destruction, my lady."

Vesper accepts the spoon with a shy smile, and I watch as she carefully removes the lid. The pale purple ice cream inside looks almost ethereal, tiny flecks of lavender visible in the creamy swirls.

She takes a small spoonful, closing her eyes as she tastes it. For a moment, the kitchen is silent, all of us waiting with bated breath for her reaction. When she opens her eyes, there's a spark there that I haven't seen in years. "It's...amazing," she breathes, already going in for another bite.

Talon whoops, pumping his fist in the air. "Score one for Team Talon! Who's the ice cream king now, huh?"

As Talon distributes the ice cream, I lean back in my chair, watching the scene unfold before me. Vesper's face is alight with childlike joy as she savors each spoonful of the lavender honeyconcoction. Zaire and Talon flank her on either side, their usual bravado softened into something gentler, more protective.

Alex joins in, his earlier fatigue momentarily forgotten as he samples each flavor, offering comical commentary on the merits of each. The kitchen is filled with laughter and warmth, a stark contrast to the tension that's been our constant companion.

I should be happy. I am happy, in a way. Seeing Vesper smile and hearing her laugh. It's more than I dared hope for just a few days ago. But there's an ache in my chest, a gnawing feeling that I can't quite shake.

Zaire catches Vesper's eye, and they share a private smile. It's subtle, barely there, but it speaks volumes about the connection they forged during their beach walk. I remember Zaire's words from earlier: ‘It was like watching a caged bird fly for the first time.’ The image burns in my mind, a reminder of what I missed, what I couldn't give her.

Then there's Talon, with his easy charm and golden retriever energy. He's telling some outrageous story now, gesticulating wildly with his spoon, sending droplets of melted ice cream flying. Vesper giggles, a sound so pure and unexpected that it makes my heart clench. Talon beams at her, clearly thrilled to be the source of her amusement.

I feel a pang of guilt for the jealousy course through me. This isn't about me. It's about Vesper, about her healing, her safety. She needs this, needs them. Their lightheartedness, their ability to make her forget, even for a moment, the horrors she's endured.

But a traitorous part of my mind whispers, "It should have been you." I've spent the last two years searching for her, planning, strategizing, sacrificing everything to bring her home. In my darkest moments, I'd imagined our reunion. I dreamed of how I'd be the one to make her feel safe, to bring that light back into her eyes.

Instead, I find myself on the outside looking in. I watch as Vesper leans into Zaire's side, her body relaxing in a way it hasn't since we found her. Talon reaches across the table to squeeze her hand, and she doesn't flinch away.

The guilt intensifies. I should be grateful that she's found comfort and that she's beginning to trust again. I am, truly. But the selfish part of me aches to be the one she turns to, the one who can chase away her nightmares.

Maybe I'm not the hero of Vesper's story, but I can still be a part of it. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough.

VESPER

The sand squishesbetween my toes as Zaire and I stroll along the shoreline, the late afternoon sun casts a golden glow over the beach. The salty breeze tousles my hair, and I can’t help but smile as I watch Z's longer locks dance in the wind, framing his chiseled jawline. After sleeping for nearly thirty-six hours, per Zaire and a panicked looking Oscar this morning, I’d ask to go back down to the beach. The waves providing me a sense of calm I never knew could exist in this life. The waves and Zaire.

I walk in silence beside Zaire, letting the rhythmic sound of the waves wash over me. The gentle lapping of water against theshore soothes my frayed nerves, a balm to the tension that's been coiled within me for days. I breathe in deeply, filling my lungs with the briny air, hoping it might cleanse away the lingering tendrils of last night's terror.

Zaire's presence beside me is comforting, a solid warmth that grounds me to reality. His fingers brush against mine as we walk, a subtle reminder that I'm not alone. I steal a glance at him, admiring the way the fading sunlight catches on his dark hair, turning the edges to burnished gold.

"I heard you last night," Zaire says softly, breaking our comfortable silence. "You were having another nightmare."

Heat rises to my cheeks, embarrassment flooding through me. I've tried so hard to keep my nocturnal terrors hidden, to maintain the facade of strength that's expected of me as a Rossi. But of course, Zaire, with his keen perception, would notice.

"You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to," he adds quickly, his hand brushing against mine in a gesture of comfort.

I take a deep breath, tasting salt on my tongue. The setting sun paints the sky in hues of pink and orange, a stark contrast to the darkness that plagues my dreams. "It's okay," I say, surprised by my own willingness to share. "I want to tell you. I need to. I can’t bottle this up inside and let it consume me. "

We pause our walk, and Zaire turns to face me, his tall frame blocking the wind.

"It's about The Shadow Man," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. The name alone sends a shiver down my spine, despite the warmth of the evening.

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