Dimple

After Jeffrey’s passing, the Hale estate went quiet in a way that felt almost deliberate like the house itself was holding its breath. Lewis threw himself into the work of it, going through every room, clearing out anything that didn’t belong to the life we were building. The old floors were stripped and polished. The rooms were opened up, brightened. The bones of the house were the same, but everything else had been remade.

Sheila’s room the one that had carried Wisteria’s presence for so long was gone entirely. In its place stood something clean and minimal, with the particular stillness of a closed Chapter.

Adam had retreated to a small cottage in the backyard. The loss had hollowed him out in ways no one talked about openly. He kept to himself now, spending his days in prayer and quiet, the outside world something he no longer seemed to want any part of. Julian had moved in the opposite direction. With Lewis’s attention fixed on the wedding, Julian stepped up and took over the company’s daily operations with a steadiness none of us had expected from him. Everything the pack had endured had shaped him. The cost had been high, but the change was real.

Lewis and I had agreed, when Jeffrey first passed, that a wedding didn’t feel right yet. But the waiting had worn him down. It had worn me down too. When I first came into this life, there had been no ceremony just paperwork, signed quietly, without joy. We’d put it off for over a year, and that delay had cost us something I couldn’t quite name.

Now the plans were finally moving, and our wedding was close.

Amber showed up just as she’d promised, and I was sitting under one of the yard trees when she arrived. She spread a soft blanket on the grass and settled the twins onto it without being asked. The sunlight came through the leaves in shifting patches, warm and unhurried. Lewis had planted flowers along the edges of the yard, and the whole space smelled like them sweet and thick, almost dizzyingly good. Everett and Everly squealed every time a squirrel darted across the grass above them.

I sat with the children and went over wedding details with the planners, going back and forth on arrangements while the twins entertained themselves. Lewis was set on giving us a real wedding one that would mean something, one that belonged entirely to us and not to any of the pain that had come before. With the Hale pack’s reach, the guest list was going to be substantial, and every detail had to be right.

For our closest people, I decided to make the invitations myself. I pressed the twins’ small feet gently into warm red clay, one at a time, and stamped each card with their prints. It felt more honest than anything printed ever could.

I was deep in it when Amber’s voice cut through. "What are you doing?"

"Making invitations."

She looked at me like I’d said something strange. "Who makes invitations like this?"

"These are for family. People who actually matter. You’re here, so don’t just stand there I still need help with the party favors."

She raised an eyebrow. "You really are a slave driver."

"We’re family," I said, handing her a card. "You can stamp the footprints."

"Why not just print them?"

"Because these people mean something to me and I’m not cutting corners. Now stop arguing and start stamping."

She shook her head, skeptical, but she sat down and got to work. I wasn’t above using her help. She had, after all, once wanted me dead. That felt like enough credit to draw from.

Once the invitations were done, Amber slipped into an easy rhythm with the twins feeding them, changing diapers with the practiced speed of someone who had done it many times before. I watched her, a little caught off guard. I’d always seen her as hard-edged, someone who kept distance between herself and softness. But she was calm and competent with the children, patient in a way I hadn’t expected.

"I didn’t know you were like this," I said.

She didn’t look up. "I’m still a mother of two, despite everything."

As the evening came in, Lewis walked through the back door and something in the air settled. I didn’t think about it I just crossed the yard and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face against his chest.

He rested his hand on my hair. "The elders are still inside, Riley."

I held on tighter. "I don’t care. I missed you. It’s only been one day. Did you miss me?"

"I did."

So much had passed between us too much time lost, too many close calls, too many moments that almost didn’t happen. But standing there with him, with the evening light going golden over the yard and the twins babbling on their blanket, everything felt exactly as it should be.

I had learned, through watching everyone around me, that love doesn’t wait. Jeffrey never grew old beside his first mate. Whitney fell from a cliff with words still unspoken. Riley let her own fate cage her heart. Sheila left her mark on Adam in the only way she had left. Julian never got to bring Riley back. Brynn spent her whole life waiting for Jeffrey to look at her the way she always looked at him.

Two people loving each other at the same time, and still managing to hold on that was rare. That was everything. I refused to waste a single moment of it.

The sun was nearly gone when Lewis leaned toward me, his eyes on mine, his mouth almost

"Ahem." Amber’s voice landed between us like a dropped plate.

I glanced at her, unable to keep the smile off my face. "What’s the rush? You and Dominic were far less subtle when you were tangled up in the curtains at the Blackwell estate."

Amber said nothing.

Lewis laughed quietly and pulled back, turning to her. "Thank you for today, Amber. I’ll take over with the kids."

"I’ll start dinner," she said, already moving toward the kitchen.

"There are people here for that."

"They don’t cook the way I do. Sit down. It’ll be ready soon."

I noticed it then the way her voice had changed when she spoke to him. Softer, easier, like something she’d stopped guarding. She turned back toward the house with the last of the evening light on her face, and for just a moment, I saw a small dimple press into her cheek when she smiled.

I went completely still.