Chapter 7
Iwake up in Ethan's guest room again, but this time everything feels different. It’s only been a week and yet I feel like I’ve known him my entire life.
We didn't have sex last night. We didn't even kiss again. We just talked for hours, curled up on his couch, mapping out the shape of what we could be together. I’ve never had as long of a conversation before. We covered every topic I could ever imagine and then some. We talked about our childhoods, our friends, our family, life goals. We played a version of Never Have I Ever of sorts and disclosed our kinks and what turns us off. While we didn’t do anything more than cuddle, the intimacy of those conversations felt deeper than anything physical could have been.
The thought makes my stomach twist with anxiety.
I grab my phone and scroll through the checklist I made for tonight. Caterer arrives at two. Florist at three. Party rental setup at four. Gifts wrapped and displayed by five. Guests arrive at six.
Everything is under control.
Everything, that is, except me.
I shower and dress in yesterday's clothes, making a mental note that I need to start keeping a change of clothing here. The thought makes me pause. Am I already thinking of this place as somewhere I belong?
When I venture downstairs, Ethan is in the kitchen with his laptop and a cup of coffee.
"Morning," he says, looking up with a smile that makes my heart flutter.
"Morning. You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep. Too excited about today." He closes the laptop. "Coffee?"
"Please."
He pours me a cup, doctoring it exactly how I like it without asking. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes something warm bloom in my chest.
"Nervous?" he asks.
"Terrified. What if something goes wrong? What if your mom hates the necklace? What if the food is terrible? What if—"
"Lily." He sets down his mug and comes around the counter. "Breathe."
I take a shaky breath.
"Everything is going to be perfect because you planned it. You thought of every detail. You put care into every choice." His hands settle on my shoulders. "Trust yourself the way I trust you."
"I'm trying."
"I know." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "What do you need from me today?"
The question catches me off guard. Not "what can I do" or "how can I help," but "what do I need".
"I need you to tell me when I'm spiraling. When I'm overthinking."
"Done. What else?"
"I need you to distract me between vendor arrivals, so I don't make myself insane."
His mouth quirks. "I can definitely do that. Anything else?"
I bite my lip, feeling bold. "I need you to remind me that I'm capable. When I start doubting myself."
"You're capable." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone. "You're brilliant and creative and you make magic happen. Is that enough, or should I continue?"
"Maybe continue," I whisper.
"You're thoughtful. Hardworking. You see beauty in the details that other people miss." His voice drops lower. "You're brave enough to ask for what you need. Strong enough to be vulnerable. And you're absolutely captivating when you let yourself shine."
My breath catches. "Ethan..."
"Too much?"
"No. Perfect. Perfect amount."
He smiles and steps back. "Good. Now eat something. You're going to need your energy. I don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself, baby girl."
Baby girl.
Those words.
We spend the morning in comfortable companionship. I work through my final checklist while Ethan handles his own preparations, like calling his mother and sister to confirm attendance, setting up a gift table, rearranging furniture to accommodate guests.
Around eleven, my phone buzzes with a group text.
Holly: Big day! How are you feeling?
Lily: Like I might throw up.
Madison: That's normal. Deep breaths.
Chloe: Remember: you're amazing at this.
Amber: Also remember we need FULL details tomorrow.
Emily: Sending you calm, capable energy.
Maya: You've got this, babe.
The support settles down some of the anxiety inside of me.
Lily: Thank you. I love you guys.
Holly: We love you too. Now go knock 'em dead.
At two p.m. exactly, the caterer arrives.
I meet them at the door, clipboard in hand, ready to supervise the setup. But watching them transform Ethan's dining room into an elegant space makes the reality of what I've accomplished sink in.
I did this.
I coordinated this.
I made this happen.
"Looking good," Ethan murmurs, coming up behind me.
"It's coming together."
"Because of you." His hand settles on the small of my back. "You should be proud."
"I will be. Once it's over and nothing has caught fire."
He laughs softly. "Fair enough."
The florist arrives at three with the most stunning arrangements I've ever seen. White roses and peonies mixed with greenery, exactly as I specified.
It's breathtaking.
"Lily." Ethan's voice is thick with emotion. "This is incredible."
"You haven't even seen the best part yet."
I lead him to the gift table where I've set up the two wrapped boxes. The necklace is in a white box with lavender ribbon. The books are sitting next to the cream paper with gold accents I’m about to wrap them up in.
"These are perfect," he says quietly.
"Open them. Make sure everything is right before your family gets here."
He carefully unwraps the necklace first, opening the velvet box.
The Irish tree of life pendant gleams in the light, each birthstone carefully placed. Ethan's sapphire. Claire's aquamarine. His father's pearl. His mother's opal in the center surrounded by everyone else’s.
"This is..." He swallows hard. "She's going to cry."
"Good tears?"
"The best tears." He hands me the box and I carefully put the ribbon back around it. "Thank you. This means more than you know."
Then he opens the book. The first edition of Pride and Prejudice is even more beautiful than I remembered. Then he picks up the second book. It’s not as fancy, just a paperback but it's the signature on the title page that makes Ethan's breath catch.
To Claire, a fellow lover of romance and resilience. May you always find your happy ending. - Lydia Hartley
"I wasn’t sure this would get done." He looks at me. "In that short amount of time! I’m impressed."
"I told you. I don't give up easily." I fidget with my hands. "Is it okay? I know I took some liberties with the personalization, but—"
He pulls me into his arms, cutting off my rambling with a kiss that steals my breath.
When we break apart, we're both smiling.
"It's more than okay," he says. "It's perfect. You're perfect."
"I'm really not."
"To me you are, you’re perfect for me." His thumb brushes across my lower lip. "Do you have any idea how incredible you are?"
Heat floods my cheeks. "You might have mentioned it once or twice."
"I'll keep mentioning it until you believe me."
"That could take a while."
"Good thing I'm patient."
We're interrupted by the doorbell. The party rental company has arrived.
For the next two hours, the house is controlled chaos. Tables are set up. Chairs arranged. A small portable bar installed in the corner. Serving stations prepared in the kitchen.
I'm in my element, directing traffic, solving problems, making sure every detail is exactly right. Maybe I should look at being a party planner in the future. Maybe. Probably not. Although, I’m enjoying this more than I should be.
Ethan stays close but doesn't interfere. He lets me work, only stepping in when I ask for his opinion. But I can feel his gaze on me, warm and approving.
Around five thirty, I finally step back to survey the results.
The dining room has been transformed into an elegant party space. Soft lighting from carefully placed candles. Beautiful floral arrangements. Place settings that look like they belong in a magazine.
"We did it," I breathe.
"You did it," Ethan corrects. "I just bankrolled your vision."
"It was a team effort."
He comes to stand beside me, sliding an arm around my waist. "Thank you, Lily. For all of this."
"You're welcome." I lean into him, letting myself enjoy the moment. "Your mom and sister are going to love it."
"I know they will. But right now, I'm more concerned about you."
"Me?"
"You've been running on adrenaline all day. When's the last time you ate?"
I try to remember. "Breakfast?"
"Lily." There's gentle reproach in his voice. "That was seven hours ago."
"I've been busy."
"I know. Which is why you're going to sit down right now and eat something while I get ready."
"But—"
"No arguments." His voice firms up in a way that makes my stomach flip. "Sit. Eat. That's not a request. You don’t want to test me on this, little girl. You won’t like the consequences of disobeying."
My pussy clenches. I remember how I asked for this, always wanted it and here it is. Maybe in a different box than I’d dreamt up. Turns out reality is much better than daydreams.
"Okay," I hear myself say.
His expression softens. "Good girl."
There it is again. Those two words that make me feel seen and valued and safe.
He leads me to the kitchen where the caterer has left small plates of appetizers. "Eat at least three of these. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
Then he's gone, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts and a plate of food.
I eat mechanically, my mind spinning.
What just happened?
He gave me an order, and I followed it without question. Without resentment. Because some part of me needed him to take control in that moment.
Is this what the dynamic actually feels like? This surrender that doesn't feel like weakness but like strength?
My phone buzzes.
Madison: T-minus 30 minutes. How are you holding up?
Lily: I think I just had a revelation,
Holly: Good revelation or scary revelation?
Lily: Both?
Chloe: Elaborate.
Lily: Ethan told me to eat and I just... did it. Without arguing. And it felt right.
Emily: That's the dynamic clicking into place.
Amber: Told you this was going to be good.
Maya: Just remember: you're still in control even when you're giving up control.
Madison: Exactly. You choose to follow. That's the power.