Chapter 6

Savannah wiped her hands on a linen dish towel and looked at the clock. Ten minutes to go.

Seb sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, nursing his coffee like it was armor. He’d been quiet all morning. Not the fidgety kind of quiet, just still.

“You good?” she asked, rinsing herbs in the sink.

He looked up, gave her a half smile, and nodded. But it didn’t reach.

“Spit it out,” she said, amused. “You’re making that face.”

“What face?”

“The one that means you’re about to say something you’ve practiced in the mirror.”

He exhaled, set the mug down gently, and stood.

“I like you.”

“I’m aware,” she teased.

“No, I mean—” he paused. “I like you. I feel like this is turning into something. Something real. Maybe even forever.”

She said nothing, but her smile softened.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Which is why I need to say this now, not later. I need to lay all the cards out so you can decide if you even want to play.”

That got her attention. She shut off the sink.

“My parents…” He stopped. “My mom. My dad passed a few years ago. Anyway, my mom is—how do I say this—peak PNW white woman. Every cause, every movement, every matter—she’s got the lawn signs and the bumper stickers. She taught me how to recycle and protest before I could ride a bike.” He shook his head. “But that’s all… public.”

She leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“Behind closed doors, it’s different. It’s not overt. No slurs or tiki torches. But it’s there. Little comments. Jokes she thinks are harmless. I’ve pushed back. And I’m ashamed to admit that until now, it never felt like a true line in the sand.”

He walked around the island, slow and deliberate, until he was in front of her. “But I see a future with you. And I refuse to let any part of my life harm you—not my mother, not my sister, not even by proximity.”

Savannah put down the knife she’d been using to chop chives. Swallowed hard. Thought.

“I can’t ask you to abandon your family,” she said finally.

“I can’t ask you to abandon yourself for their comfort, either.”

She stared at him. A lump was forming, but she swallowed it back. Then she reached for his hand and gave it a firm, quiet squeeze.

“Alright then,” she said. “We play it by ear. Go in eyes wide open. And if the white cloaks and burning crosses come out, we ghost.”

Seb laughed, genuinely. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

The doorbell rang.

Her friends came in laughing and glowing, bringing champagne and loud joy. The kind of women who made rooms feel alive. They greeted Seb warmly, exchanged compliments, and settled into the space like they’d always belonged there. Savannah moved effortlessly between them, radiant and sure.

Everyone said it.

She looked happy.

And she was.