He laughed. "Then order me already."
By the time we reached the Ferris wheel, the night had deepened, stars scattered above like they were part of the fair's decorations. The wheel loomed tall, painted in neon, each car glowing as it lifted passengers higher into the sky.
Ryder looked at me, his expression suddenly serious beneath the playful grin. "You ready?"
I nodded, clutching my stuffed octopus like a talisman, and let him lead me into the car. The wheel jolted as we began to rise, the ground falling away, the fair shrinking into a swirl of color and sound.
Halfway up, Ryder started shifting in his seat, his knee bouncing like he couldn't keep still. Then, without warning, he leaned out into the night and shouted—
"I LOVE YOU, DECEMBER!"
I froze, then burst out laughing. People below looked up, startled, but he didn't care. His voice carried through the dark, bright and unashamed, like a vow flung to the stars.
"What are you doing?" I managed between laughter.
He turned to me, breathless, chest rising and falling, a wild grin splitting his face.
"This," he said, voice rough with something deeper. "This is for every time I kept you hidden. For every moment I was too afraid to stand beside you. No more secrets, Dec. I love you and I'll shout it to the world if that's what it takes."
His eyes burned into mine, fierce and unshakable, daring me to believe him, and in that dizzy height above the world, withthe wind tugging at my hair and his words still ringing in the night, I did. I leaned closer and kissed him. Soft at first, hesitant, careful—testing the warmth of his lips against mine, tasting the sweetness of him, the faint sugar from the fair snacks lingering in the air. Then the uncertainty fell away, replaced by certainty. His hand rose to cup my cheek, thumb brushing lightly as he pulled me closer, tilting his head so our foreheads rested together as the wheel creaked and swayed above the crowd.
For the first time in so long, I wasn't afraid. The world below felt distant and irrelevant. Up here, in the slow spin of the Ferris wheel, I felt safe. I felt wanted. I felt like joy itself had condensed into this small, suspended moment and that somehow, for the first time, we could hold it between us.
The Ferris wheel jolted as it came to a stop, the colors of the fair blurring below like spilled paint. Ryder squeezed my hand once before hopping down first, grinning like a man who'd just thrown his heart into the wind.
"Stay right here," he said. "I'll grab us drinks before the fireworks start."
I nodded, still floating somewhere between disbelief and elation, my lips tingling from our 'first' kiss. The crowd thickened as I stepped aside to wait. Laughter and music swirled together, bright and dizzying., and then I bumped into someone. Hard enough that the octopus slipped from my grasp.
"Oh—sorry!" I spun, reaching automatically for the stranger's arm.
The woman smiled at me. It was brittle, almost sharp. "Sure you're sorry," she said, her voice low and cutting. "You just ruin people's lives with no consideration, don't you?"
I blinked. "What?"
Her eyes narrowed, hard as glass, the carnival lights flickering across her face like flashes of warning. The glow caught the sharp edges of her cheekbones, the tension in her jaw; every part of her radiated fury barely held in check.
When she finally spoke, her voice was venom wrapped in silk. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she hissed, every word bitten off clean. "Do you haveanyidea what you've done? You're out here laughing, holding hands, playing at happiness, while I'm left picking up the pieces of a life you shattered. You destroyed me, and you don't even see it, do you? You don't evencare."
My throat tightened. "I—excuse me, who are you?"
Her laugh came sharp and hollow, scraping the air like glass on stone. "Oh, that's rich. You don't even recognize me. Figures. You just move on, don't you? Is that what you do — take other people's men, rip families apart, and then smile for the camera like nothing happened?"
She took a step closer, the crowd noise dimming under the sheer weight of her bitterness. "I had a husband who came home every night," she said, her tone trembling on the edge between grief and rage. "I had a daughter who laughed in our kitchen, who trusted me. I had a home and a life that made sense. And then,youhappened."
She snapped her fingers, the sound sharp enough to cut through the noise around us. "Gone. Just like that. Now they're rotting in jail, and you..." she pointed at me, trembling, eyes burning with hate, "you walk around like the world owes you peace. Just care free."
"Oh my God," I breathed. "Mrs. Golding."
Her smile twisted, sharp as broken glass. "Not anymore," she said, voice dripping with acid. "Thanks to you and thanks to him. My baby told me everything was fine until he met you. Until you poisoned her life." Her tone rose, trembling with barely contained fury. "Now she's heartbroken. Now she's locked in a cell because ofyou."
I froze, my mind scrambling for meaning. "Me? What?"
"Oh, spare me your shock." The softness vanished from her face entirely. Her eyes gleamed with bitter fire. "You think prison is just concrete and bars? It takeseverything.It strips a person to bone. It steals birthdays, laughter, family dinners. It drags our name through the dirt until nothing's left but whispers and shame."
She stepped closer, every word landing like a blow. "My husband's reputation is gone. My daughter sleeps on a cot in a room with no light and cries herself to sleep because people chose to believehisversion of the story after he met you. I am sure you both planned this so you can get together and put my baby in prison." Her voice cracked, then hardened again. "Do you know what that does to a mother? To watch her child disappear behind bars while the person who caused it all gets to breathe free air?"
"She's there because she's an abuser," I said, my voice rising, my breath coming quick. "Because she hurt him."
