Chapter 42- Oliver
I wake up to something warm and heavy on my legs.
Moony.
Of course.
She’s sprawled across the bottom half of the bed like she pays rent here, snoring softly, her tail twitching every few seconds. And on my chest—chewing on the drawstring of my hoodie—is Bunter.
I groan. “Buddy… that’s not food.”
He looks up at me with those big blue-gray eyes, tail wagging like he’s proud of himself.
Then I hear it.
Ellie’s laugh.
Soft. Sleepy. The best sound in the world.
She’s sitting up beside me, hair messy, eyes still half-closed, smiling at the chaos like it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
“You’re getting eaten alive,” she says.
“I noticed.”
She scoops Bunter off my chest and kisses the top of his head. “No eating Daddy’s clothes.”
Daddy.
I pretend that didn’t just hit me in the chest like a truck.
Moony lifts her head, yawns dramatically, then flops it back down on my shin.
Ellie leans over and kisses my cheek. “Good morning.”
I swear I could live in this moment forever.
“Morning,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You sleep okay?”
She nods. “Yeah. But I need to start the sauce.”
Ah yes.
The sauce.
The legendary, secret, life-changing sauce she refuses to tell anyone the recipe for. My mom has been begging for it since the first time Ellie made it.
I sit up. “You want help?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. You’ll ruin it.”
“I will not.”
“You absolutely will.”
She kisses me again—quick, teasing—and slips out of bed with Bunter in her arms. Moony follows her like a shadow.
I watch her go, and all I can think is:
I’m going to marry that woman.
By the time I walk into the kitchen, Ellie’s already in full cooking mode.
Hair tied up.
Apron on.
Music playing softly.
Bunter asleep in his little bed.
Moony sitting like a statue, waiting for something—anything—to drop.
Ellie’s stirring a pot, humming under her breath, swaying her hips a little. I lean against the doorway and just… watch.
She’s magic.
“Don’t even think about it,” she says without turning around.
I grin. “Think about what?”
“Tasting it.”
“I wasn’t—”
She smacks my hand with the wooden spoon before I even reach the pot. “Liar.”
Moony barks like she’s laughing at me.
Ellie dips the spoon into the sauce, tastes it, makes a face, adds something else, stirs again. She’s so focused, so serious, so adorable I can’t stand it.
“You know,” I say, “my mom is going to lose her mind when she tastes this.”
Ellie shrugs, but she’s smiling. “Good. She deserves something special.”
I walk up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist, and kiss her shoulder. “You’re special.”
She blushes. “Stop.”
I don’t.
Moony sits in the backseat like royalty.
Bunter is in his little carrier, whining every time Ellie looks away.
Ellie keeps turning around to check on them.
“You’re worse than a new mom,” I tease.
She swats my arm. “He’s a baby!”
I glance at her, and she’s glowing.
Happy.
Soft.
Excited.
Nervous.
The second the door opens, my mom screams.
“ELLIE!”
She hugs her like she hasn’t seen her in years. My sisters appear behind her, immediately stealing Bunter from Ellie’s arms and running off with him like gremlins.
Ellie laughs, cheeks pink, eyes bright.
She fits here.
She belongs here.
She belongs with me.
Ellie is in the living room with my sisters, showing them how to hold Bunter properly while Moony supervises like a strict aunt.
My mom pulls me into the kitchen under the excuse of needing help with the rolls.
But before she can say anything, my grandma shuffles in behind us, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s small, sharp-eyed, and somehow always knows everything before anyone tells her.
She gives me that look — the one that sees straight through me.
My mom lowers her voice. “Did Gregory take it well?”
My heart jumps.
I nod. “Yeah. Better than I expected.”
My grandma hums, approving. “Good. That man loves you like a son. I knew he would.”
My mom smiles softly, eyes warm. “Everything’s falling into place.”
I glance toward the living room.
Ellie is laughing.
Bunter is asleep in her arms.
Moony is curled at her feet.
My sisters are taking pictures.
My grandma is watching her with a soft smile — like she already considers Ellie family.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Everything’s coming out perfect.”
My grandma pats my arm. “She’s ready, mijo.”
My throat tightens. “I know.”
And I am too.
The table is full, every inch covered with dishes my mom and grandma spent all morning making. Ellie’s sauce sits in the center like a crown jewel, steaming and perfect.
My sisters are already taking pictures of everything.
“Ellie, smile!”
“Wait—hold Bunter!”
“Now, hold the spoon like you’re a chef!”
We all sit down, and the second my mom takes her first bite of Ellie’s sauce, she freezes.
“Oh my god.”
My sisters gasp dramatically.
Grandma puts her hand over her heart.
Ellie covers her face with her hands. “Stoppppp.”
My mom shakes her head. “No. No, you don’t understand. This is—this is—this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
My sisters nod aggressively.
Grandma wipes a fake tear. “I can die happy now.”
Ellie laughs so hard she nearly drops her fork.
Moony barks like she’s agreeing.
Bunter, who is sitting in my sister’s lap, lets out a tiny yip.
Everyone melts.
My sisters immediately start taking pictures again.
“Ellie, look at him!”
“He loves Thanksgiving!”
“He’s a little angel!”
Ellie reaches over and scratches Bunter’s head. “He’s a little troublemaker, that’s what he is.”
I watch her — the way she fits here, the way she laughs, the way she glows — and I swear my chest aches.
Grandma notices. She always notices.
She nudges me under the table. “Mijo… you’re looking at her like she hung the moon.”
I don’t deny it.
Conversation fills the room — stories, jokes, memories. My sisters tease me about everything: how I used to cry when Moony was a puppy, how I used to burn toast, how I used to swear I’d never fall in love.
Ellie laughs at every single one.
Then my mom pulls out her phone.
“Family picture!”
Everyone groans, but we all get up anyway.
Ellie stands beside me, and I wrap my arm around her waist.
Moony sits proudly at our feet.
My sisters hold Bunter like he’s a newborn.
Grandma stands behind Ellie, hands on her shoulders like she’s claiming her.
My mom snaps the picture.
Then she takes another.
And another.
And another.
Dinner continues with more laughter, more teasing, more stories.
Ellie’s sauce is devoured.
My sisters fight over who gets to hold Bunter next.
Grandma keeps slipping Moony pieces of turkey when she thinks no one is looking.
As everyone settles back into their seats, my mom clears her throat dramatically — which means she wants attention.
My sisters stop talking.
Grandma looks up from slipping Moony another piece of turkey.
Ellie straightens a little beside me, curious.
My mom smiles, soft and thoughtful. “So… I was thinking.”
Everyone looks at her.
She continues, “Since the weather’s cooling off and the season’s starting to change… I thought it might be nice if we all went to Starlace Hollow tomorrow. Just for the night.”
The reaction is instant.
My sisters gasp.
Grandma claps her hands.
Ellie’s whole face lights up. “Wait—really?”
My mom nods. “Yes. The cabins are open, the lights are already up for the season, and it’s perfect this time of year. I think it would be good for all of us.”
Ellie looks like she’s about to burst. “Oh my god, that sounds amazing.”
My sisters start talking over each other:
“We can take pictures by the lake!”
“And get hot cocoa!”
“And the cabins have fireplaces!”
Ellie turns to me, eyes sparkling. “Oliver, that sounds perfect.”
I smile at her — soft, warm, already imagining her under the Starlace Hollow lights — and nod. “Yeah. It will be.”
My mom catches my eye.
Just for a second.
A tiny, quick wink.
So small no one else notices. But I do.
My heart kicks hard in my chest.
Ellie is still talking excitedly with my sisters, already planning outfits and pictures and which cabin she hopes we get.
She has no idea.
Grandma leans over and whispers, “Starlace Hollow is a special place, mijo.”
I swallow. “Yeah. I know.”
Everything is falling into place.