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“So y’all just walking in here together like you ain’t been sneaky for the last few months?”

Taylor smiled but didn’t deny it.

“Grown.”

“Mmhm,” Paige muttered, sipping from her wine glass. “I hope you’re ready for the Blake Bishop interrogation. I seen her warm the fuck up with Emon.You? She gon’ bring the heat.”

“I’m not hiding anymore.”

Within ten minutes of arriving Blake was requesting that everyone wash their hands and prepare to eat.

“Sis, it’ like six of us. Why you cook so much food? Got it looking like the last supper.”

“I told her ass it was too much food. She cooked enough to feed a small village. She don’t listen.”

“Please,” Blake waved him off, but her smile was pleased. “Now somebody say grace so we can eat.”

Taylor bowed her head and prayed for and over her friends and family. She thanked God for the food and the hands that prepared it. Silently, she thanked God for being there with Brooks next to her, his thigh pressed against hers under the table. When his hand found her knee, squeezing gently, she grinned. This man was going to be the death of her.

Everyone echoed, “Amen”, and then plates were being passed, conversations flowing easily around the table. Blake had shown out. Laughter bounced through the house as friends and family gathered, and for a second, Taylor thought she could breathe.

Until Blake opened her mouth.

“So Taylor,” she said casually, “how’s being divorced feel?”

Taylor stiffened, but she caught herself. She reached for her wine glass, steady. “Actually, it’s been a process, but it’s been peaceful. Tyree signed the papers without any drama. I got my final decree a few weeks ago. I was already done before that though.”

Brooks didn’t say a word, just grinned. She grinned also. She knew. They both knew why Tyree hadplayed nice, because Brooks made it very clear what would happen if he didn’t. And the crazy part? She didn’t mind. When she got with a big dawg letting him off his leash happened at times.

Blake grinned—thatgrin. The one that meant she was about to stir the pot just because she could. “Good. You deserve better than that mess. Speaking of better... y’all look good together.”

“Friend, you so nosey. I swear,” Taylor said, laughing.

But she didn’t deny it.

Not this time.

Not when Brooks had his hand on her thigh under the table, grounding her, reminding her that this was her life now.

“Let them be,” Emon said, not looking up from his plate. “They’ll figure it out in their own time.”

“Fine, but I’m keeping my eyes on y’all. So handle yourself accordingly.”

Paige rolled her eyes, smirking. “And what you gonna do girl? Go see the lady for them.”

“Bitch, go to hell,” Blake laughed and so did Taylor.

The conversation shifted to lighter things finally. Graduation talk, pantry updates, summer plans.

“I was thinking,” Blake said, pouring more wine with her usual flair, “we should all go to the Jazz Festival this summer. Rooftop at The Brownstone. Whole city view.”

“I’m down,” Emon said immediately, already grinning at her like she hung the moon.

Brooks glanced at Taylor, letting her lead. He never pressured her, never pushed. He knew she wasstill adjusting to the idea of being seen with him in spaces like this. Still sorting through what it meant to be public. Still healing.

“That sounds fun,” Taylor said after a pause. “We’d love to go.”

Blake’s eyebrows shot up, a slow smile curling at her lips. “We, huh?”