Chapter 24 Paige
Paige
It had been a few days. Long, restless, twisting-in-circles kind of days.
I missed Hunter. I missed the way he filled a room without even trying, the quiet steadiness of him, the way I felt less alone whenever I was with him. And now, with him keeping his distance, it felt like I was being pulled in too many different directions at once.
Eli’s bullshit threats. My feelings for Hunter—loud, consuming, impossible to ignore, no matter how hard I tried.
And then the kids, the center of everything, the ones I had to protect above all else.
But most of all, I needed too much. I was unsettled, my life was in turmoil, and I had to stop taking advantage of him.
I knew I’d hurt him. I’d seen it in his eyes the night the cooler broke, even though he hadn’t said the words out loud.
And I was so angry with myself for it. I hated that I was too scared to give him what he deserved.
The guilt sat heavy on my chest, pressing down with every quiet moment I had to myself.
When I headed to work that morning, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The bar had become such a minefield—problems with equipment, Eli’s shadow hanging over me, and now Hunter’s absence. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t know if I even wanted to unlock the door.
But when I pulled into the gravel lot, the lights were already on.
Piper. The party. How could I have forgotten?
Inside, I froze just past the doorway.
Piper and Lucy were there, moving around like they owned the place, half-buried in decorations.
Piper balanced on a chair, looping brand new twinkle lights across the beams above the bar, while Lucy fussed with a bouquet of balloons and muttered about proportions.
The tavern smelled faintly of leather and lemon cleaner.
It looked different. It looked almost new.
Brand new light fixtures glowed overhead, brighter and warmer than the old ones.
From the back, appliances that were clearly not mine hummed steady and strong, no longer threatening to drain me dry with repair costs.
And a new margarita machine, gleaming, shining, and quiet—not the banshee-voiced relic I’d been cursing for months—sat proudly in its place.
Even the jukebox was new, flashing with playlists that weren’t stuck somewhere back in 1987.
“Surprise,” Piper called without turning around. “Don’t freak out, just go with it.”
I slipped out of my jacket and set it over a barstool, my eyes wide as I took it all in.
“Spencer and Deacon were here all night,” Lucy explained, not even trying to hide her grin.
“Brody and Tucker were here for a while, too. The cooler is fine. Spencer got new parts, and they’ll last for a long time.
But the freezer was crap, so now you have a new one—happy birthday from me!
They installed the new light fixtures and even programmed the jukebox.
Don’t ask how they did it all so fast. Cassidy magic. ”
My throat tightened. Cassidy magic. No—Piper magic.
God, I freaking loved my sister. She hopped down from the chair, dusting off her hands.
“See? You thought I was just being bossy about this party, but it wasn’t about cake and balloons.
It was about this. You never ask for help, so I asked for you. ”
I stared at her, my eyes filling up with tears faster than I could blink them away. “What?”
She spread her arms like she was unveiling a masterpiece.
“This was the plan all along. New lights, working appliances, a margarita machine that doesn’t sound like it’s clawing itself out of the grave, a jukebox with songs from this century.
The party is just the excuse. You’d never let us do it otherwise.
Happy birthday, grand opening, Paige-is-forty-extravaganza day! ”
Lucy smirked at her. “I thought you were calling it emotional camouflage day.”
I let out a shaky laugh, gripping the edge of the bar. Emotional camouflage. Of course, she’d come up with that.
Because it was true, I’d waved off offers, insisted I could handle everything by myself. But now, standing here, surrounded by things I hadn’t dared to hope for, I couldn’t deny how much lighter I felt.
And underneath it all, I could see Hunter. Not here, not looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, but in the quiet fixes, the mended places, the things repaired and replaced without me asking. My chest ached with guilt and longing.
Piper was talking about centerpieces and cake, but all I could think about was how badly I wanted to see him. How badly I wanted to tell him he mattered. That maybe I was finally ready to stop hiding how I really felt about him and let everyone know we were together.
I was still staring at the new lights and contemplating my life when the front door banged open and a whirlwind of voices came pouring in.
“Delivery for the birthday girl!”
My mother swept in first, holding a garment bag nearly as tall as she was.
Grandma trailed right behind her, sequins already glittering on her cardigan like she’d taken Piper’s assignment to sparkle to heart.
Piper clapped her hands and squealed as if she hadn’t orchestrated all of this from the beginning.
“Sparkles,” my mother declared, laying the bag across a booth with all the gravity of someone setting down crown jewels. “Wait until you see it. It reminded me of your prom dress. Plus, it’s not a party without sparkles, don’t you think?”
“Or heels,” Grandma added, placing a shoebox on top with a flourish. “We never got to go shopping together, so we brought shopping to you.”
I blinked at them, throat tightening as they unzipped the bag and pulled out a purple sequined dress. It was low cut and sexy as hell. I hadn’t worn something like this in ages.
“This is too much,” I protested, pointing at the neckline. “I can’t pull something like this off. I’m not that girl anymore.”
“You sure as heck can. And you are that girl. You’ll always be that girl, don’t let anyone take it from you,” Grandma countered. “You need to go try it on. I’ll fight you if you don’t.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I hesitated, fingers ghosting over the dress’s sequins as if they might spark some forgotten version of myself.
Piper tugged at my elbow, urging me toward the bathroom with a conspiratorial grin. “Come on, Paige. You need at least one dramatic entrance tonight.”
Before I could gather my thoughts and go try it on, the door opened again.
“Coffee run,” Eliza sang, sweeping in with a cardboard tray. She pressed a hot cup into my hand and kissed my cheek. “Extra cream, extra sugar, because it’s a party day. Happy birthday, big sister.”
Behind her came Cara, cheeks pink from the cold, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers—wild, bright, colorful. She set them on the bar with a smile. “For good luck.”
I pressed my palm to the lid of the coffee cup, warmth seeping into my fingers, my throat thick. I’d spent so long holding everything together on my own that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded. To be carried instead of carrying.
Piper caught my eye, her smile softening. “Paige? Are you okay?”
I swallowed hard, blinking fast. “I’m just overwhelmed. In the best way.”
Mom crossed over, looping an arm around my shoulders, while Grandma fussed with the hanger, muttering about necklines and how you’re never too old to sparkle.
The whole bar buzzed with life, warm and bright, and for the first time in weeks, I felt something I hadn’t let myself feel—hope. And love. So much love, it pressed against my ribs until I thought I might burst. They were here. All of them. For me.
But somewhere under all of that warmth, beneath the sparkle and laughter and happy chatter, was Hunter. Still missing. Still, the ache I couldn’t quite ease. He should be here tonight.
Then my grandma, as casual as could be, said, “Your grandpa is on his way to pick up the girls from school. Noah texted—he’s halfway here. Want me to call anyone for you? I’m sure he’d drop everything and come.”
“Grandma,” I whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do.”