Page 81 of Gathered Sparkle

“Yeah.” I nod. “He is very much in love with you, too, Ezra. And you’re not kids anymore. You’re both in your thirties. Maybe it’s time to stop holding back. I bet Oscar would think so, too, now.”

He looks away, his jaw working, the silence stretching out. When he finally meets my gaze again, there’s something raw in his expression—a crack in the armor he wears around me.

“It’s not that simple,” he murmurs.

“Maybe it is,” I counter. “And maybe it’s worth it.”

Ezra doesn’t respond, but the way his hand tightens around the glass tells me he’s thinking about it.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulls my attention toward the hallway, and moments later, Sylus bounds into view. Behind him, Ace descends at a slower pace.

Sylus strides into the kitchen, grabs me around the waist, and pulls me up into the air with a playful twirl that makes me yelp. “There’s my Sparkle!” he says before his lips crash onto mine in a kiss so dramatic it has me laughing against his mouth.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only to pepper kisses all over my face, forehead, nose, and cheeks while I squeal and try to squirm free. “Stop!”

“Shut up, you love me.” He grins, setting me back on my feet but keeping his arms looped around my waist as he leans in for another kiss, slower this time. This one is the kind that makes my toes curl and my heart skip. “So? How was it? Did you dazzle everyone?”

I’m lost in the chaos that is Sylus, his unfiltered affection and absolute lack of hesitation. But then my gaze drifts past him, landing on Ace. My heart stutters as a flicker of guilt ripples through me. Sylus is loud and bold and so unapologetically present, and I wonder what Ace thinks, seeing this. Seeingmelike this.

Does it hurt him? Does it feel like Sylus is claiming a piece of me that should be his? The thought weaves a thread of panic through the happiness Sylus’s hug brought me. I can’t bear the idea of making Ace feel as though there’s no space for him like he’s a shadow in a room that’s already full.

But then Ace meets my gaze, and there’s no anger, no jealousy. Instead, he offers me the smallest, softest smile. It’s enough to take the weight off my chest but not enough to stop my heart from aching for him.

“How do you think it was?” Ezra’s dry voice pulls me out of my thoughts as he walks out of the kitchen.

Sylus watches him go, his eyebrows raised. “What a grump.” He leans in to kiss my cheek, his lips lingering a second longer than necessary. “I’ll go check on him.” Then, with a wink, he saunters off after Ezra, leaving me alone with Ace, who stands by the counter, his ice-blue eyes still locked on me.

His quiet intensity is so different from Sylus’s playful chaos, yet it pulls me in just the same. “You look beautiful,” he compliments, and the sincerity in it makes my heart stutter.

“Thank you.” I glance down, smoothing the fabric of my dress. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since…”

“… our chat,” he finishes for me, offering a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “I’m managing.”

I take a step closer, searching his expression. “Managing?”

“I’m trying,” he admits. “Trying to… work things out. To be better for you.”

“You don’t have to be anything for me except yourself.”

“I do,” he disagrees. “And I will be.”

“I missed you,” I confess, the words slipping out before I can second-guess them.

“I missed you too.”

Koen appears at the kitchen’s entry. “Are you two joining us in the living room?” he asks, now dressed in black sweatpants and a shirt. Levi, who walks past us after Koen, is still his glittery self, but his face is bare of makeup.

“Sure,” I say quickly, putting down the glass of water. But as I move to walk past Ace, he reaches out, letting his hand brush against me and his pinky hook around mine.

It’s the same way Rosalee used to hold my pinky—her silent promise that she was there, always—through scraped knees, whispered secrets under the covers, and even that last night.God, if I’d known it was the last one, I would’ve held her pinky tighter. I would’ve told her how much she meant to me.

I blink hard, trying to push the ache back down, but Ace’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “That okay?”

His eyes are searching mine, and something in them twists my heart like he’s asking permission not only to touch my hand but to anchor himself to me—to make it through all of this together.

I swallow, nodding even though the lump in my throat threatens to choke me. “More than okay.”

His lips twitch with the barest hint of a smile, and it’s almost enough to break me right there because it’s the kind of smile that’s a lifeline when you’ve been drowning for so long you’ve forgotten what air feels like.

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