Page 8

Chapter eight

Flyn

I ’m early. Ridiculously early.

The balloons are still half-inflated, the streamer bag is dumped in a heap on the kitchen counter, and the big cardboard castle Dad and I wrestled together yesterday afternoon looks like it’s leaning just a bit too far to the left.

It’s not a safety hazard yet, but give it ten minutes and one overly enthusiastic five-year-old, and we’re probably looking at structural collapse.

“Thought you said three,” Cara calls from somewhere behind a mountain of wrapping paper.

She emerges a second later, hair up in one of those messy knots she always pulls off without trying.

There’s a purple streak of icing across her forearm, and she looks at me like she’s trying to decide if she’s grateful I showed up or if she wants to make me blow up the rest of the balloons as punishment.

I grin and hold up the bag of pastries I brought as a peace offering. “Technically, it is three. I’m just fashionably punctual.”

“You’re thirty-five minutes early.”

“That’s within the acceptable range.”

“Maybe if you’re eighty.”

I set the bag down on the counter, narrowly avoiding a sticky puddle of what I hope is jam and not some kind of crafting mishap. “Come on, you love having me early. Admit it.”

Cara snorts, but there’s a little tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

She doesn’t say it out loud, but I can see it in her eyes.

Yeah, she’s glad I’m here. Things have been heavy for her lately.

Heavy in that way they get when you’re a single mum of a firecracker kid and trying to juggle work, life, and planning a miniature princess-and-dragons themed blowout in your too-small apartment.

I roll up my sleeves and gesture grandly at the chaos around us. “Right. Where do you need me?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Streamers. I gave up about twenty minutes ago.”

“Streamers, my mortal enemy.” I grab the tangled mess and start sorting them out, looping them through my fingers like I know what I’m doing. Truthfully, I’ve never been great at party prep, but I’ll be damned if I let my niece’s birthday bash fall apart on my watch.

Cara moves around the kitchen, wiping icing off her arm with a damp cloth. She’s watching me the way she always does when she knows I’ve got something simmering under the surface. It’s a big sister thing. Like she’s got some built-in radar for my moods, even when I’m keeping things light.

“Alright,” she says, too casually, “Out with it.”

I feign innocence. “Out with what?”

“The thing that’s making you smile like an idiot.”

“Maybe I’m just happy to see my favorite sister.”

“You only have one sister.”

“Which makes you my favorite by default.”

She arches an eyebrow at me, unimpressed. “Flyn.”

Damn it. Caught.

I let out a breath and lean against the counter, running a hand through my hair. I probably could’ve kept it to myself, but honestly? I kind of want to tell someone. And Cara, well, she’s earned the right to hear it first.

“Alright,” I admit, grinning despite myself. “I saw Jade last night. ”

Cara pauses mid-icing swipe. Her eyes widen just a fraction before she catches herself and tries to play it cool. “Jade?” she echoes. “As in Jade Jade?”

“The very same.”

“The Jade you wouldn’t shut up about, then mysteriously stopped mentioning like he never existed?”

I wince. “Okay, when you put it like that…”

“Flyn.” She abandons the cloth and plants both hands on her hips. “Tell me everything. Right now.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. Full, warm, from-the-chest laugh that feels like it’s been waiting to get out all morning.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a date,” I start, untangling another streamer and slinging it over the curtain rod. “We said it upfront, just two old friends catching up. No pressure.”

“But?”

“But it felt like more.” I glance sideways at her, my grin going soft around the edges. “It was more.”

Cara’s face does this thing, this sort of half-smirk, half-oh-brother expression she saves for moments exactly like this. She wipes her hands on a tea towel and leans on the counter, clearly settling in for the story.

I don’t make her wait.

“We met at that little Italian on the High Street, you know, the one with the candles and the world’s most seductive wine list?

” I say. “He arrived not long after I did. Same hoodie he always used to wear at the office, like comfort armor. And I swear, Cara, the moment I saw him… boom.” I snap my fingers. “Like no time had passed at all.”

I draw in a hasty breath. “I mean, we had run into each other the day before and grabbed a quick coffee, but this was different. This felt like so much more .”

Cara’s expression softens. “You really missed him.”

“Yeah,” I say, quieter now. “I did. ”

I tell her about the conversation, how it started light, easy, with old stories and half-teasing jabs, like slipping into a favorite old jacket.

How somewhere between the second glass of wine and the laugh he gave when I told him about my disastrous attempt at sourdough baking, it stopped feeling like a casual catch-up and started feeling like gravity.

“And the way he looked at me, Cara,” I say, shaking my head like I still can’t quite believe it. “Like I was the only person in the room. Like he was seeing me and not just... I dunno. The mess I am sometimes.”

Her eyes go a little glossy, but she blinks it away fast. “You always were a sucker for that kind of thing.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“So?” She nudges my shoulder with hers. “Did you kiss him?”

I laugh, a little embarrassed, a little thrilled. “No. Thought about it, though. About a hundred times. But I didn’t want to rush it. I didn’t want to scare him off.”

Cara tilts her head, studying me like she’s seeing something new. “You like him.”

“Of course I do.”

“No, I mean you really like him. Like... more than just a bit of fun.”

I swallow past the lump rising in my throat and nod. “Yeah. I really do.”

She watches me for a beat longer, then nods once, firmly, like she’s come to a decision. “Good. Then don’t mess it up.”

I laugh again, softer this time. “I’ll try not to.”

There’s a pause as we both go back to working on the decorations.

For a moment, it’s just the rustle of streamers and the faint thrum of Sorcha’s birthday playlist coming from the Bluetooth speaker in the living room.

But I can feel Cara’s question lingering in the air between us, unspoken but heavy with curiosity.

So I answer it .

“We’re seeing each other again tonight,” I say, and the words feel like fireworks in my chest. “Nothing fancy. Just... seeing where it goes.”

Cara’s smile is bright enough to outshine the wonky fairy lights strung across the kitchen. “That’s my brother,” she says, reaching up to ruffle my hair like she used to when we were kids. “Chasing the good things.”

“Gotta keep life interesting,” I reply, swatting her hand away with a grin.

She opens her mouth to respond, but just then, the living room door rattles, and Sorcha’s unmistakable voice shrieks from the hallway. “Is it party time yet?”

Cara barely has time to laugh before Sorcha barrels into the room, a whirlwind of pink tulle and sparkly plastic jewelry, eyes wide with birthday excitement.

“Flyyyyyyn!” Sorcha’s shriek rattles my eardrums a full second before her small body launches at my legs like a missile. I just about catch her, scooping her up in a spin that makes her giggle, her tiny arms around my neck.

“Hey, birthday girl!” I say, peppering her cheeks with loud, obnoxious kisses that make her squeal with delight. “How does it feel to be ancient? What are you now, twenty-five?”

“Five!” she corrects me with a grin, holding up her whole hand like proof.

“Five? No way. You sure?”

She nods with solemn authority, and I play along, widening my eyes.

“Well, that explains the wisdom I see in your eyes. Very mature.” I set her down gently.

I watch her twirl away toward her pile of presents and inspect the wrapping with barely contained glee. And I realize something warm and certain is settling in my chest.

Cara’s watching us, warmth in her eyes. For a second, everything feels perfectly simple. Balloons, cake, family. Safety. Belonging .

But under all that, my thoughts keep drifting back to Jade. To the way his eyes softened when he looked at me across the table. To the way his voice dipped when he said my name like it was something precious.

Tonight, I’ll see Jade again.

And for the first time in a long time, it feels like maybe, just maybe, there’s something magical waiting on the other side of this day.

I hope tonight, I get to see that look again.

No, it’s more than that. I hope tonight, I give him a reason to stay.