In my ear, Lily snorts. “Intense? Try emotionally weaponized.”
Hannah huffs out a soft laugh. “That’s a polite word for it.” She rubs her temples. “Thanks for defending me about the children thing. I was two seconds away from stabbing a dinner roll.”
“I meant it,” I say. “You get to decide your timeline. Not Aunt?—”
Lily cuts in. “Aunt Reproductive Regret.”
I choke on a laugh, covering it with a cough.
Hannah narrows her eyes. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly. “Just… swallowed wrong.”
Her eyes stay suspicious.
We step farther into the study, the sanctuary of the moment. “My mom had me young,” she says quietly. “I think they expect me to follow the tradition. But I’m not ready. I don’t even know if I want kids. Is that terrible?”
“It’s honest,” I tell her. “Nothing wrong with knowing yourself.”
Lily pipes up: “Tell her she’s the most put-together person in that house, which, low bar, but still.”
I shake my head slightly. “Your sister thinks you’re amazing and perfect just as you are.”
Hannah’s brows lift. “Did she say that?”
Lily: “No, I didn’t, but sure, go with it.”
I smile. “She implied it.”
Hannah snorts, but her shoulders relax.
“This is where Lily and I always hide,” she says, moving toward the bookshelves. “To breathe. And avoid awkward questions. And avoid everything.”
I take a breath, steadying myself. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”
She blushes instantly. “And you,” she says, eyes flicking over my hair, “look like a dangerous lumberjack someone recruited for a runway show.”
Lily: “Okay, accurate.”
“That’s a new one,” I say. “But I’ll take it.”
“OH MY GOD! SOMEONE JUST FELL INTO THE WEDDING ARCH. I REPEAT—WE HAVE A MAN DOWN!”Lily’s voice explodes in my ear.
“I think we’re good now, Lily,” I say. “Enjoy the wedding. And I’m out.”
“Have fun,” she says.
I sigh, reach up, and pluck the earpiece out, then drop it into my pocket and look at Hannah.
Her smile is slow. Warm. Dangerous.
We stand in the warm quiet of the study, muffled laughter drifting through the walls.
“So,” I say, voice softer. “Have you… thought about the scent-match thing? About us?”
“Constantly,” she admits.
“And?”
