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“Yeah, just, I’m gonna stay home tonight. Give your dad a big hug for me?”

“Yeah. Sure. Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask when I really want to know what the hell is going on.

There’s another long pause and then, “I’m fine, Nick. Promise.”

I hear how hollow the word sounds.

I know how it feels to say I’m fine when deep down, I know I’m not. Placating, a desperate attempt to fend off questions I don’t want to answer.

Was I that transparent to everyone this whole time? Why they kept pushing and pushing until I thought I’d go crazy?

“It’s okay if you’re not fine,” I say, remembering how quickly I bristled any time someone said that to me.

“Really,” Charlie responds, “I’m fine.”

I give her the grace I wish everyone would have given me and let the statement slide… for now.

“Okay, Wildrose. But I’ll swing by after? Check in on you.”

“Sure. Yeah. We’ll see how it goes. Hey, Nick?”

She sounds like there’s something heavy on her mind. I brace for impact. “Yeah?”

Instead, Charlie swallows hard, then sighs. “Have a good night, okay?”

The chances of me having a good night died the moment the phone rang. Instead of telling her that I say, “I’ll give Dad that hug for you,” then hang up the phone and glare at the mirror.

The Hutton Hotel ballroom is packed with family and friends. The ambience gives the room a soft glow, light reflecting off the polished wood floors and the shimmering decorations. Tables are adorned with elegant centerpieces—glass bowls holding floating candles and sprigs of greenery. The air hums with conversation, the clink of glasses, and the soft strains of a jazztrio near the bar. But the festive atmosphere feels distant, like I’m watching it through a pane of glass.

With a family as large as mine, you’d think it’d be easy to fade into the crowd and draw little to no attention to myself. But the minute Angela walks in, she not only sees me, but she beelines across the room, her pretty face drawn into a frown.

“All right, Nick. Spill it. What the heck is going on?”

I feign surprise and glance around the room. “It looks like a retirement party for our dads because you and Garrett are just so gosh darn good at running the hotels. Or am I missing something?”

“Don’t play coy with me. You look miserable. Charlie looks miserable. I don’t think I’ve seen you two not together since her wedding, and everyone knows she uses our family events as excuses to see you. Yet, she’s at home, pretending to be sick and you’re here. What gives?”

My parents see us talking and head our way. I hug them each in turn, congratulating Dad before giving him a second hug. “That one’s from Charlie. She’s sorry she couldn’t make it but wanted you to know how happy she is for you.”

Mom furrows her brow. “So spill it, son. What gives with you two? I haven’t seen you look like this since she came to the Keys, and I can’t remember the last time we had a Hutton family gathering without Charlie hanging on your every word.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Angela exclaims.

“Well, notexactly…” I joke, hoping to change the topic. “Some of the words were different.”

Both Angela and Mom lift unamused eyebrows. I turn to Dad for help, but he appears to be on team Not-Nick.

“Things are just, I don’t know. They’re weird right now.”

Angela pops a fist onto her hip. “Weird like you getting into an accident and pushing Charlie away because no one reallyunderstands why? Or did you manage to take weird to a whole new level?”

Indignation flares, hot and bright, but dies quickly. Suddenly, I find myself telling them about the call from my CO and the conversation that followed. “I told Charlie I was going to ask her to move in with me that night, that she was what I wanted. She countered by asking me why we never had the conversation. And it was a good question.”

“It is a good question.” Dad wraps an arm around Mom’s shoulder, drawing her close. She never wanted me to join the Marines in the first place. She’s doing her best not to show how my news is affecting her, but I know she’s hoping I’ll turn the offer down.

“Do you know why you didn’t ask her to move in?” Mom asks.

I explain the yoga studio for sale, which sets Dad’s head bobbing in understanding before I even get to my motives. “I think I was afraid to get in the way of something so good for her. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to stay just for me.”

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