Page 153 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

For a few minutes, the conversation loosens. Celeste asks about Chicago, about the gala, about whether Strong AeroTech really occupies “that giant glass building by the river” or whether Bee has been exaggerating for sport.

“He’s been exaggerating,” I say.

Bee cuts in at once. “I haven’t. It’s a giant glass building. You can see capitalism from space.”

“It’s an office tower.”

“It’s a monument to your control issues.”

Celeste smiles at that, but her attention shifts when I mention the gala’s purpose, the safety platform, and the investor reception. She asks intelligent questions, not performative ones. That surprises me slightly.

Bee notices that too, because he gives her an approving glance and says, “See? I told you this stuff is interesting.”

She lifts a brow. “You also told me private aviation parties are full of men using the phrasenext generation ecosystemwith sincerity.”

“That part's true,” I say.

“Exactly,” Bee says. “You deserve to witness it at least once.”

I finish my lunch and set down my glass. “Come to the office this afternoon.”

Bee looks up. “Now?”

“Yes. If you’re free.”

He laughs softly. “Didn’t even pretend to hesitate.”

“You were useful. I reward useful.”

Celeste looks between us again. “This is how you invite people places?”

“Usually I’m less warm,” I say.

Bee points at me. “And people think I’m the difficult one.”

“You are the difficult one.”

“I’m the entertaining one.”

“That isn’t the same thing.”

He sits back, considering. “Fine. We’ll come by.”

That works better than expected, because the truth is, I do want him to see it. The scale of what became possible. The company as it exists now, not in memory but in fact. The teams, the systems, the reality of something we once built in fragments becoming structural enough to alter an industry. There’s no point denying the satisfaction in that.

He left before it turned into this.

A part of me has always wanted him to understand exactly what he walked away from.

By the time lunch ends, I’ve already sent Sara a text to expect us.

Her response is immediate.

Sara: How much trouble am I being asked to professionally absorb?

Ethan:Moderate. Possibly useful.

Sara: That isn't a reassuring metric.