Page 144 of American Beauty

“Lead the way, boss.”

Elias carries everything in, stacking my bags by the couch like it’s nothing. He straightens up, glancing around—and his gaze catches on the corner of the living room.

He whistles low under his breath, stepping toward the basket filled with rolled-up Samoan mats, the shelf stacked high with books about Samoa and its culture, and the framed map of the islands hanging on the wall, surrounded by a handful of small Samoan artifacts I’d picked up when Alex took me to meet his family.

“Wow,” he says, grinning. “Tina thinks she loves you now? She’d straight-up lose her mind if she saw this.”

“I love Samoan culture. It’s beautiful. The people. The history and tradition. The heart behind everything.”

Elias nods, warmth in his eyes. “Trust me, we know.” He taps his chest over his heart with his fist. “The whole family knows. We saw it in Samoa—how you didn’t just visit. You soaked it in. And cared. You loved it like it was already part of you.”

The words hit hard, a bittersweet ache blooming behind my ribs. Because even when I wasn’t trying to belong to anyone, they claimed me.

Elias lingers by the basket of mats, his hand brushing over the rough weave of one of them before he glances back at me. “I’m glad you’re back in the family. It was a rough time for Alex.”

My heart squeezes, the ache still sharp. “I didn’t handle being apart from him very well either.”

Violet sucks air between her teeth. “Magnolia did not thrive during her sad-girl era. It was bad.”

Before the moment becomes too serious, Violet claps her hands together. “You know what we should do?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell us.”

“Let’s take Elias out. Show him a real Lowcountry welcome his first night here. Shrimp and grits, fried green tomatoes, the whole shebang.”

Her grin is pure mischief.

What are you up to, Vi?

“Elias just got off a transpacific flight. He deserves something way better than sad airplane food.”

I bite back a smile. Because let’s be real—Elias flew business class. He wasn’t choking down some sad, plastic-wrapped sandwich and lukewarm coffee at thirty thousand feet.

Still, the way Violet’s looking at me—vibrating with excitement—I can see she’s not about to let this go.

The weight of exhaustion presses into my bones. “I don’t know. I’m pretty wiped. And I’m sure Elias is tired after his long flight.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Violet behind Elias’s back.

She widens her eyes, mouthing. “pleeeeease,” and pressing her palms together.

Sleep can wait, I guess. “You know what? It’s still early. I could eat.”

Violet’s face lights up like she just won a lottery scratcher.

“If Elias is up for it.”

He nods. “Always starving.”

I shake my head, laughing. “A family trait, no doubt.”

Elias flashes a grin that’s pure trouble. “Let’s do it. Feed me all the Lowcountry, teine. I’m ready.”

We end up at one of my favorite spots tucked away near the Battery—a worn brick building with creaky floors, mismatched chairs, and food that tastes like home.

The second we step inside, the scent of butter and spices and something rich and fried wraps around us. Elias breathes in deep, his whole face lighting up.

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” he says.