Love on the Edge

10. Chapter Ten

"You look beautiful, honey," Mom says, her voice warm.

"Thank you, Mom," I reply, a little shy. I’ve heard it plenty before, but I’ve never liked being the center of attention.

I glance at my reflection. Other than the night of the party, I don’t usually dress up.

Full-circle moment, honestly.

The dress is simple but elegant—a deep navy, fitted at the waist, with thin straps that leave my shoulders bare. The fabric is smooth, hugging my frame without feeling constricting. Not too flashy, not too much. Just enough.

My hair is down, something I rarely let happen. The soft waves fall over my shoulders in stark contrast to the usual tight ponytail or bun.

I like this side of myself. More relaxed. Lighter. Happier.

That’s when it hits me—Ethan makes me happy. Maybe he has since the first night I met him. There’s something electric about him, something effortless and steady.

I’m glad I get to know him like this, without pressure, without rushing into something we can’t define yet. We haven’t put any labels on us, haven’t said what we are. We just… exist together. And until his wife signs the divorce papers, that’s all I’m willing to do.

The doorbell rings, and I take a steadying breath before heading downstairs, my heels quiet against the hardwood.

As I reach the bottom step, I hear my dad’s voice.

"So, how’s the garage treating you?"

"Busy," Ethan replies, his tone easy, familiar, like he’s not just answering to impress him but actually enjoying the conversation. “Drew’s been talking my ear off about upgrading some of the lifts. Swears it’ll change our lives.”

Dad chuckles. “He sounds like the type if he can’t rebuild it, he’ll try to make it better.”

Ethan huffs out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, well, he’s got me pulling more hours than I planned, but I guess I can’t complain. I like working with my hands.”

There’s nothing forced about it. Just two men talking, like they’ve known each other longer than they actually have. Like my dad already likes him.

And then—Ethan looks at me.

It’s not just a glance. It’s the kind of look that makes my stomach dip, the kind that sends something electric through my veins, sharp and unshakable.

Ethan’s gaze drags over me, slow, deliberate, like he’s committing every detail to memory. Like he’s seeing me for the first time—but also like he already knew exactly what he would find.

And maybe I should have expected him to look good, but I didn’t expect… this.

He’s clean-shaven, his jaw sharper under the dim light. His dark hair is styled just enough to look effortless but not careless. He’s wearing a fitted button-down, the sleeves rolled up slightly at his forearms, the deep blue fabric stretching over broad shoulders.

It’s different from his usual—no grease stains, no worn flannel, no work boots. And I can’t stop looking.

His lips part slightly, but he doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t have to. Because I feel it. Everywhere.

My breath catches, the warmth of his attention settling over me in a way I don’t know what to do with.

Dad clears his throat, breaking whatever moment we were locked in.

Ethan blinks, like he’s just remembered we’re not alone.

“You clean up nice,” he finally says, voice low, eyes still holding onto something I can’t name.

I should say something back, but I don’t trust my voice just yet.

I hear Ethan chuckle.

"You ready to go?" he asks, and it’s casual, but there’s something in his voice that lingers, something heavier than the words.

"Yeah," I say, exhaling quietly.

I give my mom a hug and kiss my dad on the cheek, feeling a familiar warmth settle in my chest.

Then, I turn to Ethan. Without thinking, I reach for his hand. His fingers curl around mine, warm, steady, grounding.

And then—he rubs his thumb along my skin. Slow. Deliberate. Like he isn’t just holding my hand but holding me in place.

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding slips out, my body instantly relaxing, but it’s more than that. I feel… held. Not just touched. Not just steadied. But held.

The kind of touch that says I’ve got you, without needing the words.

This time, when I walk into Drew’s house it’s different.

I’m not showing up alone. I’m not showing up because I feel obligated, because Nina begged me, because it’s easier to say yes than to argue.

I want to be here.

I want to celebrate my friend, to stand beside her on one of the happiest nights of her life. I’ve come so far from the person who used to avoid things like this. I was forced to go to the party that night, but now? Now, I’m choosing this.

We walk in, hand in hand, and as the crowd settles, Ethan moves behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chest solid against my back.

He leans down, his lips brushing my ear. A whisper, just for me. "I hear a car door closing. I think they’re coming in."

I nod slightly, eyes flicking over the room, taking in the faces around us. This is family.

Ethan’s parents are here. Ryan, CC. Close friends, familiar faces. Even Zara.

I glance toward the far wall and spot Ryan standing next to her. Close and relaxed, their heads tilt toward each other, their conversation quiet, intimate.

Ethan had mentioned Ryan asked her out. I would have never guessed she’d said yes. She's as dedicated to skating as I am, neither of us has ever had much of a social life.

I don’t know why I watch them for a second longer than I should.

Maybe because it’s strange, watching something begin in real time. Seeing two people shift from possibility into something tangible and real.

Or maybe because I know exactly how that feels.

The front door swings open, and Nina steps inside, Drew right behind her.

"Surprise!" we all call out.

Nina laughs—bright, open, overflowing with joy.

She runs to her parents first, throwing her arms around them, her excitement radiating so strongly that the whole room seems to glow with her.

She looks adorable, as always. A white dress, soft and flowy, cinched at the waist, catching the light with a subtle shimmer. Elegant, but effortless. Playful, but still refined. Very Nina.

And, of course, she’s wearing bright pink heels.

Before she can come over, CC bolts toward her, her little boots tapping against the floor as she yells out in pure excitement.

“Aunt Nina! Hi!”

Nina turns just in time, grinning as she bends down to catch CC in a hug. “Hey, little bug!” she says, ruffling CC’s hair.

CC pulls back, still bouncing. "Daddy brought Valeria!"

Ethan groans lightly, rubbing a hand over his face. "CC…"

CC ignores him entirely.

Nina’s eyes flick up to me, and her entire expression brightens.

“I see.” She winks at Ethan, then stands up, smoothing out her dress. "I’m going to go say hi."

I watch as she makes her way over to us, her excitement still buzzing in the air around her. She wraps Ethan in a hug first, squeezing him tight before turning to me. “Val! I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Congratulations!” I say, feeling myself smile for her. “Can I see the ring?”

She practically shoves her hand toward me. Her fingers tremble slightly, like she’s still trying to believe this is real.

The ring is... perfect. A delicate yet stunning vintage design, the center stone a deep sapphire instead of a diamond, flanked by tiny diamonds on either side. Elegant but bold. Classic, but uniquely hers.

It looks exactly like something Drew would pick. Something meant just for her.

"Let’s start the party!" Drew calls, and the room bursts into motion.

Music pulses through the speakers, drinks are poured, conversation swells into an easy, lively rhythm. Laughter spills through the air, and warmth fills the space. Everything about the moment feels effortless, unshaken, untouched by anything outside of it.

But then—something shifts.

It’s subtle at first, just a feeling. Like the air has thickened, like an unseen presence has settled into the space. I wouldn’t have noticed it right away, not if Ethan hadn’t gone still beside me.

His entire body tenses.

His fingers tighten around his drink, his posture losing its relaxed ease in an instant. The second I glance up at him, I see it. His jaw is locked, his body braced like he’s waiting for impact.

Something’s wrong.

I follow his gaze toward the entrance.

A woman stands just inside the doorway, watching the room like she’s taking inventory. Like she’s deciding where she belongs in it.

She’s impossible to miss.

Platinum blonde hair, sleek and sharp against the dark liner smudged around striking green eyes. Her makeup is bold, dramatic, designed to draw attention, and from the way she carries herself, I can already tell that’s exactly what she’s used to.

Her dress is short. Tight. Intentionally edgy. Fishnet stockings disappear into impossibly high heels that somehow make her presence feel even more imposing. She looks like she walked straight off a stage and into this room without a second thought, like she belongs anywhere she decides to stand.

And right now, she’s standing in a room full of people who weren’t expecting her.

Something in my stomach twists. I don’t know who she is. But the energy in the room shifts around her, the laughter thinning, the ease cracking at the edges.

A small voice cuts through the noise, piercing in its innocence. "Mommy?"

I barely have time to register the word before CC stiffens in Ethan’s arms, her little hands fisting into his shirt.

Ethan’s grip tightens around her. He exhales, slow, controlled. But I don’t miss the way his shoulders go rigid, his knuckles whitening against the glass in his hand.

His voice is quieter than I expect when he finally speaks. "Margo."

The name lands like a dropped glass, shattering whatever celebration existed in the room just moments ago.

Ethan looks at her like she’s a collision waiting to happen—I already know enough.

She wasn’t invited.

And she isn’t here to celebrate.