We’re okay.
I pull Korie close. Korie turns to smile at me. No panic this time, no pulling away. Just joy. They don’t kiss me—that would send the noise level to the moon—but they lean into me, fully relaxed and content. And I can read it in their eyes.
I love you.
I smile back.I love you too.
27
KORIE
The lake water is freezing. That’s not an exaggeration. Not a little cold. Not refreshing. Freezing.
My teeth chatter as I hit the surface with a strangled yell and immediately regret every decision that led me here while Holden cackles from the rope swing platform above me.
“You forgot to yell like Tarzan!” he says.
“Oh my god!” I sputter, wiping water off my face. “You absolute asshole!”
“You said it looked fun!”
“It did from land!”
Laura’s laugh carries across the shoreline where she’s sitting in a folding chair beside Vicky, both of them watching the chaos like this happens every year. Which, honestly, it does. I’ve lost count of how many times Holden and I have jumped off the platform. I complain every time.
“It builds character!” Holden shouts.
“You know what else builds character? Therapy! You should try it sometime.”
Derrick nearly falls over laughing at that, while Chris doubles over beside the cooler. Trista is trying to record the whole thing on her phone, which means this humiliation is now permanent family history.
Great.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Holden launches himself off the rope swing before I can climb out and throttle him. He lets go with a dramatic yell, cannonballing directly beside me. Lake water slams into my face.
I choke. “I hate you!”
“No, you don’t,” he says immediately, grinning.
Unfortunately, he’s correct.
He’s dripping wet, hair flattened to his forehead, smile bright and easy in the late afternoon sun. Something warm unfurls in my chest so fast it almost hurts.
God, I love him.
Holden splashes me again.
Never mind. Maybe I’ll kill him a little.
I swim over to him, crawl onto his back with my arms around his shoulders, and pull him back under the surface. We wrestle and toss each other around until we come up for air. It’s been this way since we could walk.
The afternoon settles into the kind of chaos only our families can create. Andrew starts a volleyball game that devolves into cheating accusations within ten minutes. Ezra claims Holden crossed a line that absolutely does not exist. Chris insists he saw the foul too, despite actively facing the wrong direction at the time. Vicky keeps threatening to confiscate the ball like we’re all twelve.
Meanwhile, I end up sitting cross-legged on a blanket with Trista’s girls, teaching them more yo-yo tricks.
“You’re getting good at that,” I say to Macy, who is walking the dog for the third or fourth time.
