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Cal guided her gently forward. The party opened around them like a warm, welcoming tide.

What followed was a night Sage Thompson knew — even while it was happening — she would never forget.

Bonnie Keller appeared within thirty seconds, seizing both of Sage’s hands in hers. “You are stunning. I told Earl, didn’t I tell you, Earl⁠—”

“I know, dear. You told me,” Earl said with the long-suffering, deeply fond expression of a man who had been happily proven wrong by his wife for fifty years.

Sage laughed, letting Bonnie hold her hands as something warm and full bloomed in her chest.

Bobby Callahan tipped his hat at her when she passed his table — the same small, quiet gesture he gave her every night she worked at the diner. Like it was any other Tuesday. Like she hadn’t just walked into a magical Christmas party wearing a midnight-black dress while the whole town watched. She loved him for it.

The Halverson sisters swept off the dance floor and wrapped her in a double hug. Agnes smelled like rose water, Ruth like warm peppermint, and they both talked at once — Sage couldn’t catch every word, but the message came through loud and clear; We’re so glad you’re here. We’re so glad you stayed.

Then Michael appeared in his tux, red Converse sneakers, and a Final Fantasy hat perched on his head. “Hi Sage. You look really good. I get why Bear kept mooning over you all week like you’re the Evenstar herself.”

Sage glanced at Cal, puzzled. Michael waited expectantly, then added, “You know… because he’s basically sworn his sword, his heart, and his last lembas bread just to catch one of your smiles.”

Sage blinked “Ahh…thank you, Michael. That’s… the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Michael froze for a second, then broke into a delighted smile and wandered off to “grab an apple juice.”

“Is he always like that?” Sage asked, turning to Isabelle, who had appeared beside her.

“Always,” Isabelle sighed, staring after him with the softest look in her eyes. “He’s so cute, right?”

Sage smiled at the woman who had so quickly become her best friend. “Yeah, sis… he’s a keeper.”

Isabelle smiled, already reaching for her headset, but Sage gently stopped. “No more work. You’re a guest tonight. Be a guest.”

Isabelle opened her mouth. Closed it.

“The headset,” Sage said, holding it out.

A beat passed. Then Isabelle laughed, surprised, and handed it off to a passing assistant. She grabbed a glass of champagne and grinned. “Okay. Okay, fine. But you have to try the beef things Amélie made. Come on.”

Sage glanced back at Cal as Isabelle dragged her away. He smiled at her — slow, warm, and proud — and gave her a small nod that clearly said, Go on, baby girl. This is your night.

When Sage finally spotted Rowan, she realized something she probably should have known earlier.

Rowan stood near the edge of the dance floor, holding her wine glass with both hands like it was the only thing anchoring her. She watched the crowd with that calm, composed expression she wore so well — the one that said she was present, but never fully belonged. Like a lighthouse keeper scanning the horizon, steady and watchful.

Her emerald green dress suited her perfectly. It followed the strong lines of her shoulders and arms — the kind of arms that had lifted patients and held people together for years — then moved over the soft curve of her waist and the solid, powerful shape of her hips and thighs. The deep green made her eyes look even brighter and turned the faint freckles across her nose and collarbone into something almost delicate against the rest of her.

“Dr. Hale!” Sage called, smiling as she approached.

Rowan turned, and her face did something soft — a shift that went far beyond polite doctor-patient warmth. She looked at Sage like she was something unexpected and precious.

“Sage.” Her voice was gentle. “You look… absolutely beautiful.”

“You too,” Sage said honestly. Rowan, in her dress of deep green, was quietly devastating. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Bear invited the whole town,” Rowan replied with a small smile. “I wasn’t going to come, honestly. But then I thought…” She paused, her eyes lingering on Sage in a way that felt heavier than the words. “I wanted to see you.”

The way she said it landed differently. Not alarming. Just… present. Weighted.

“I’m really glad you did,” Sage said warmly. “It’s been such an amazing day. I’m so happy you’re part of it.”

They both turned to watch the dance floor for a moment. Across the room, Cal bent down, listening to Mary Sue, his expression attentive and warm.