“I did,” Dash said, beaming proudly.
“I needed the manual labor,” Orion said, ruffling his hair. The two smiled fondly at each other, Dash with something like adoration for my husband. Though he was only eleven years older, Orion was the first decent father figure Dash had ever had.
Because Orion was made to be a father.
“How did you keep it a secret?”
I jumped. “What?”
“I was asking your brother how he managed to keep it a secret.” Mom’s brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Fine.”
“Dr. Bennett,” came a voice. Ezra Wolfe and his husband, Matteo Ferraro, joined us.
“Let me guess,” I said, trying not to burst into tears. “Matteo did the catering.”
“Correct!” Ezra said, pulling me in for a hug. “Congratulations, my friend.”
“I’m going to kill Orion,” I said into his shoulder. “I’m going to kill all of you.”
“No, you’re going to be celebrated tonight, just like your hubby said.” Ezra pulled back to look at me, a thousand emotions exchanged between us without a word. Most of them gratitude. And love. So much love. “I know,” he said, sniffling. “Me too.”
Then he and Orion hugged tightly, and my husband’s eyes fell shut with something like relief. Because it was possible to have more than one soulmate, and Ezra was ours.
“Look at you,” Ezra said, holding Orion by the shoulders. “It’s been too long.”
Orion scoffed, but his voice was thick. “A few weeks. As if you weren’t texting me after every European performance at two in the morning, complaining about my arm weight.”
“Well, if you’d stop laying on the piano as if you’re about to take a bloody nap on it, maybe I wouldn’t have.”
Matteo and I exchanged glances and laughed. I kissed him on both cheeks.
“Ciao, bella,” he said. He was shorter than Ezra but built, with a handsome angular face softened by an inherent sweetness. They’d met during Ezra’s appointment at the Accademia Nazionale in Rome. Matteo was a chef, and Ezra had wandered into Matteo’s bistro after a performance.
“He come in, very tired,” Matteo had said when we’d first been introduced three years ago. “But he has music in his bones, sí? I can hear it. Very beautiful.”
“I’d just performed,” Ezra had explained. “But I was alone.Lonely.He put down a bowl of pappardelle that I didn’t order, sat down across from me, and said, ‘Eat until you feel better.’ I felt better immediately, but I kept coming back. Just to be sure.”
I’d loved Matteo in that instant too.
“Ciao, Matteo. Thank you for being here.”
I turned to Orion and gave him another incredulous look. He shrugged, the picture of innocence, and then I was engulfed in Odin’s bear hug.
“There she is, my favorite sister-in-law.”
I laughed and kissed his cheek, then Octavian, who looked happier, brighter. Odin was thriving at Mercer Chemicals as his father’s number one man, and Tav was a writer living in Paris.
“Congratulations,” Tav said in his thoughtful way.
“Thank you,” I said. Though he was older than me, I’d always felt a big-sisterly protectiveness for Octavian. Seeing him happy was another gift piled onto this night when I was already spoiled rotten.
Their parents followed, and a hush trailed in their wake as people stepped aside. Neither had lost that regal air about them. Rockwell stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Celeste was stunning all in silver.
“Dr. Bennett,” Rockwell said. “Congratulations. A tremendous achievement.”
In ten years, he’d never become less formal, less closed in, but he’d never treated me like an outsider either. Celeste was warmer, as if the years had thawed the cool, collected front, and let more of herself shine through.
