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“Tell me you didn’t invite him,” she whisper-hissed.
“He wanted to be here. I thought we should give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Is Sabrina—”
“No, she didn’t come.”
Harleigh’s expression softened. “Well, I guess that’s something.”
Our friends swarmed us, all wanting to wish my girl a happy birthday. I stepped back, giving her, Celeste, and Chloe some space.
“This is… impressive,” Zane said, pretending not to track Celeste’s every move. I had no fucking idea what was going on there. He refused to talk about it and as far as I knew Celeste had told Harleigh there was nothing to tell, even though she’d called things off with Mulligan right after Homecoming.
I called bullshit. Being around them was like waiting for lightning to strike. You knew it would come, you just didn’t know when it would hit or how bad the damage would be.
“It was all Jessa and Michael,” I replied. “I just had to get her here.”
“Nah, you did a hell of a lot more than that, Nix. Look at her. She looks happy.”
“Yeah.” My chest tightened. She did look happy. She was happy. And I knew it wasn’t all on me but it didn’t feel bad at all knowing I’d had a hand in helping her find herself again.
“Is that new jewelry I spy?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Zane snorted. “Well at least it isn’t a fucking ring. I know you think she’s your endgame but you’re still young. Things change.”
“Nah,” I said right as Harleigh looked at me.
“Lovesick fool,” he grumbled, heading for the bar.
Harleigh excused herself and came over to me, sliding her arms around my waist. “Let me guess, he was worried you got me a ring?”
“Something like that.” I chuckled, dropping a kiss on her head. “What do you think?”
“It’s… a lot.” She scanned the room, the friends and family that gathered to celebrate with us. Celeste, Max, and Michael. Jessa and Colt. Kye, Chloe, and their mom. Zane, Nate, and Miles. Even old Mrs. Feeley had made the trip.
Because she was loved.
Harleigh was loved even when she didn’t believe it.
She let out a contented sigh. “But I think I love it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t want to do it all the time, but it’s nice.” She tucked herself into my side and laid her head on my shoulder.
“Harleigh,” Michael approached us, a small gift in his hand.
“Hi.”
“Happy birthday. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“This is for you.” He handed her the gift. “It isn’t much, but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
“You didn’t have to—” I nudged her gently and she forced a smile. “Thank you.”
