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But even with her gone, the fallout remains. Tyler is still deep in his investigation, tracing the loose ends she left behind—accounts under fake names, unknown associates who may still be pulling strings in the background. It's not over, not entirely.

But for the first time in months, I don't care about the loose ends.

Because for the first time in months, I know exactly where I belong.

And that's how I end up here, standing outside the Bennetts' front door, trying to remember how to breathe.

Ava nudges me with her elbow, smirking. "You look like you're about to face a firing squad."

I exhale, adjusting my grip on the bottle of wine I brought—a peace offering, though I'm not sure it'll do much good. "Dean might be worse."

She grins. "Probably."

The porch light casts a warm glow over her face, and for a second, I forget about everything else—the lingering tensions, the watchful eyes waiting inside. All I see is her. The woman who walked into my life like a storm and refused to leave, who made a home in the places I didn't think one could exist.

I reach for her hand, threading our fingers together.

She squeezes once, a silentI've got you.

And together, we step inside.

Dinner at the Bennetts' is loud, chaotic, and—admittedly—one of the best meals I've had in a long time. Dean, true to form, goes all out in the kitchen, whipping up something so damn good that even Ryan stops mid-bite to groan in appreciation.

Halfway through the meal, Ryan leans back in his chair and shoots me a smug look.

"Wild that you and Ava ended up together," he says, feigning innocence. "Did not see that coming."

Emily smirks from the corner. "Yeah, total shocker, what say, Nate?"

Nate chuckles. "I'm with you on this, Em."

Ava groans, slumping in her chair. "Oh, my God."

Dean just shakes his head. "You two are insufferable."

Ryan grins. "Please. We earned this." He turns to me. "I mean, fake dating? That's the best you could come up with?"

I sip my wine. "Seemed like a solid plan at the time."

Nate raises a brow. "And when did it stop being fake?"

Ava peeks at me through her fingers, and I smirk. "Depends who you ask."

Ryan groans. "Gross."

Laughter ripples through the table, and for the first time, I feel it. I'm not an outsider anymore.

Even Dean, who has spent most of the evening watching me with his usual unreadable expression, finally exhales, shaking his head as he reaches for another serving.

It's subtle, but I catch it.

A silentyou did good.

I nod back.

And just like that, I know we're okay.

Later that night, after dinner has turned into drinks and old stories, I pull Ava outside.