Eleanor’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly. “Sydney. Welcome.”
Sydney’s gaze swept the entire tent before landing on Cal like she had radar built specifically for him.
“Cal, you look exhausted,” she murmured, stepping closer and adjusting his collar. “Are you sleeping at all?”
Her fingers lingered too long.
“I’m fine,” he said.
I shifted uncomfortably.
“Hadley,” she said, turning toward me with a bright, polished smile. “You look… radiant. Pregnancy suits some women beautifully.”
There it was.
Subtle. Sharp.
“Thank you,” I said evenly.
She slid into the chair beside Cal without asking, crossing her legs elegantly. “Remember Paris?” she said suddenly, laughing. “That night you and Holland tried to steal that fountain statue?”
Jake barked out a laugh. “You mean when Cal fell into the water trying to climb it?”
Cal groaned. “I was drunk.”
“We were all drunk,” Sydney said fondly, resting her hand lightly on his arm.
I stared down at my plate.
Conversations shifted around memories I wasn’t part of. Every story started with “we.” Every laugh reinforced how deep their bond ran.
Sydney didn’t start anything right away.
That was the worst part.
She blended into the party like smoke, smiling, laughing softly, touching Cal’s arm every time she spoke, slipping into conversations with the boys like she belonged in the center of their gravity. Which… she did. She always had.
I tried to ignore it.
Eleanor pulled me toward another table, introducing me to two of her friends who immediately started asking about nursery themes and birth plans. I answered politely, smiling until my cheeks hurt, shifting my weight from foot to foot because my lower back felt like it was splitting in half.
“Sweetheart, sit,” Eleanor whispered gently, noticing my discomfort.
“I’m okay,” I insisted, though I wasn’t.
Across the tent, Cal was laughing at something Jake said while Sydney leaned against the table beside him, her fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass like it was second nature.
Zariah leaned closer to me. “She’s circling.”
“I know,” I muttered.
“Want me to spill punch on her?”
Despite everything, I huffed a quiet laugh. “Tempting.”
Eleanor excused herself to greet new guests. Zariah’s phone buzzed, and she stepped aside to answer it, mouthing, work thing, before slipping toward the house.
And suddenly…
