Page 63 of Forever To Me

But it’s not the hair that gets me.

It’s the dress.

A sundress. Light green. Thin straps that leave her shoulders bare, the hem swishing around her legs as she steps out of the truck.

I swallow my throat feeling tight. I've always thought she was beautiful. But this? This feels different.

The dress hugs her curves in a way I’m pretty sure she’s completely unaware of. The fabric is doing a hell of a job wrecking my focus.And when she shifts the paper bags in her arms, the neckline dips slightly, revealing the slightest hint of golden skin that makes my pulse stutter.

I blink and drag my eyes to her face, only to find her laughing at something Mack just said, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her cheeks flushed from the wind. Her smile is wide and real—completely unguarded in a way I don’t see often.

And that’s when it hits me.

She doesn’t just look beautiful.

She looks happy.

And God help me if that doesn’t knock the breath out of me harder than the dress does.

The night air feels warmer suddenly. My heart picks up, and that slow, familiar ache—the one I’ve been pretending not to notice for months—settles in my chest.

I’m falling.

And it’s not just about the way she looks tonight. It’s how she lights up when she’s with Mack, doesn’t hesitate to throw herself into Maggie’s chaos, and ishere, standing in my driveway, laughing like she belongs.

Because she does.

Mack slams her door and bolts toward me, waving a bag ofHot Cheetos. “Dad! We bought half the store! And Maggie almost got kicked out for arguing about coupons, again!”

Maggie groans as she climbs out of the passenger seat. “That cashier was a child with a calculator, not a professional.”

Believably, she'll argue to give them crap. It's the Maggie way. Then, next week, she'll drop off a treat for the cashier, and they'll be besties again.

Violet laughs, and my eyes snap back to her.

She’s looking at me.

And when our gazes lock, everything inside me stills.

Her smile softens, her lips parting slightly, and for a second, it’s like the noise around us fades into the background.

“Hey,” she says, shifting the bags in her arms as I reach for them.

I clear my throat, desperately trying to look unaffected. “Hey. New dress?”

She glances down, brushing at the hem self-consciously and proclaims proudly. “Yeah. Epic thrift store find. New with tags.”

“It…” I hesitate, searching for words that won’t give me away. “Looks good.”

Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink, and she gives a small smile. “Thanks.”

Mack picks that moment to practically tackle her, sending one of the bags tilting sideways. A bag of Sour Patch Kids hits the pavement and bursts open, candy spilling everywhere.

Violet laughs and bends down to pick it up, hair falling forward over her face.

And I can’t help it.

I stand there, watching her in the soft glow of the porchlight, my chest tight with something I don’t want to name.

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