I nod toward the entrance. “Come on. We have a fundraiser to run.”
Sophie watches me for a second longer, clearly not done with prying, but she lets it go, for now.
But something tells me she won’t let me escape for long.
***
I stand near the edge of the ballroom, watching Marcus as he kneels beside Maeve, who’s perched on a velvet settee like a tiny queen. Her curls bounce as she giggles, clutching a half-eaten cookie.
Marcus holds up a finger, his tone mock-serious. “Now, Miss Maeve, you promised me one dance later.”
Maeve’s eyes light up, and she nods vigorously. “But you have to spin me.”
Marcus grins, ruffling her hair. “Deal. The best spins for the best little princess.”
I can’t help but smile as I watch him, his attention completely focused on Maeve. Then he stands, lifting her up effortlessly and settling her against his hip as he turns to Sophie.
The way they look at each other… God, it’s like they’re the only two people in the room. Sophie’s gaze softens as she reaches out to touch Maeve’s cheek, her hand lingering on Marcus’s arm.
Maeve leans in, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Uncle Marcus, you’re my favourite.”
Marcus chuckles. “Good. Let’s keep it that way, kiddo.”
Maeve beams, soaking in the attention, her small hands resting on Marcus’s shoulders as he holds her securely. My eyes flick back to Marcus, who’s now spinning Maeve around like they’re dancing, the little girl’s laughter ringing out, bright and unrestrained.
Olivia exhales a small, wistful breath. “He’s amazing with her,” she murmurs, but there’s something in the way she says it—something quiet, almost careful.
I glance at her, catching the way her fingers toy with the hem of her sleeve, the way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Her eyes stay fixed on Maeve, but her voice drops, quieter now. “If only her dad would just spend five minutes with her.”
She exhales sharply, like the weight of those words has been pressing on her for too long. “That’s all it would take, you know? Five minutes.” Her voice wavers, barely above a whisper. “If he’d just spend some time with her, he’d see how amazing she is. How she has this big, open heart that only knows howto love.”
She swipes a hand over her face, as if trying to push the thought away. “But he won’t. She’ll keep growing, keep loving and he’ll never know what he’s missing.”
I reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. “She has you, Olivia.”
She swallows, her gaze still locked on her daughter. “I know.” A small, sad smile flickers across her lips. “I just hope that’s enough.”
I hesitate for half a second. Olivia isn’t the type to show cracks in her armour. She’s the one who always has a plan, always pushes forward, always knows what to do. Seeing her like this, raw and uncertain, makes my chest ache.
I slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her in. She stiffens at first, like she’s not used to being the one comforted, but then she exhales, sinking into the hug.
For a moment, she stays still, her breath a little uneven against my shoulder. Then, so softly I almost miss it, she murmurs, “Thank you.”
I squeeze her a little tighter. “Always.”
Marcus’s phone buzzes. He shifts Maeve to his hip, frowning slightly as he glances at the screen. He smoothly shifts Maeve into Sophie’s arms as he takes the call.
“Excuse me a second.”
Sophie’s brows furrow as she watches him walk a few steps away, the easy smile slipping from her face. “Is everything okay?”
Willow shrugs, keeping Maeve entertained with silly faces. “Maybe it’s one of his big-shot friends.”
Marcus returns a moment later, his expression tight. “So, minor hiccup,” he says, trying for casual but clearly failing. “Our final auction item just fell through.”
“What?” Sophie’s eyes widen. “Which one?”
