Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Sienna
Girls’ night is in full swing at Aria’s villa, and it feels as if the entire week has been building toward this exact moment.
The living room is a glorious mess of blankets, pillows, half-empty wine glasses, and snack bowls. Face masks are smeared on every face, hair is in various stages of braiding and curling, and The Princess Bride plays at a low volume because we all know the lines by heart anyway.
I’m sitting on the floor with Aria between my legs, carefully braiding her hair as she leans back against me. The familiar rhythm of my fingers through her blonde hair brings back a thousand memories—sleepovers, secrets, late-night giggles when we were supposed to be asleep.
Claire passes around another bottle of wine—the “one max” rule went out the window about an hour ago—topping off our glasses.
“Okay, truth time since we’re all masked up and vulnerable,” Claire says, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “What’s one thing you’re most excited about for tomorrow?”
Aria answers first, her voice soft and dreamy. “Seeing Ethan’s face as I walk down the aisle. I’ve dreamed of this moment since he bumped into me at the coffee shop while I was running late for my midterms. He was wearing that terrible plaid shirt, yet he still managed to make my heart stop.”
Mom smiles warmly from the couch, her pink clay mask making her look surprisingly youthful. “I’m excited to watch my baby girl marry the man who looks at her the way your father used to look at me.”
Lillian’s eyes mist as she looks at Aria. “I’m excited to watch my son become a husband and to officially gain you as my daughter. On paper, anyway—you’ve been part of it ever since Ethan brought you home that first Thanksgiving, covered in paint and smiling like you already belonged.”
All eyes turn to me. I hesitate, fingers still working through Aria’s hair. “I’m just excited to finally see my sister get her happily ever after. And honestly? For the speeches, I’ve been writing mine for years. Always second-guessing it, adding jokes, taking them out, adding them back…”
Aria spins to look at me, her eyes wide with mock horror. “Ugh, please don’t put anything embarrassing in the speech. I swear, if you tell the grape story—”
I nudge her with my knee, grinning. “You gave me full rein, remember? I’m not holding back. The world deserves to know about Grape Aria.”
She groans dramatically. “I take it back. Speech rights revoked. Effective immediately.”
Claire laughs from the couch, nearly spilling her wine. “Too late. We all want to hear the grape story now.”
“Absolutely not,” Aria shakes her head frantically, but she’s laughing too. “You better not include that, Sienna. If you do, I’ll tell everyone about that time in college when you—”
I clamp my hand over her mouth, silencing her with a dramatic “Shhh!” The girls burst out laughing as Aria tries to lick my palm to make me let go.
“Listen,” I say, my voice muffled by laughter as I still hold her mouth shut. “I’m an open book and will admit to almost anything… but some stories are meant to stay buried. Deeply buried. Like six feet under, with a concrete slab on top.”
Aria mumbles something against my hand before I finally let go, wiping my palm on her arm as she gasps for air.
“I mean it,” she says, eyes narrowed in playful warning. “No grape story. Or I’m telling everyone about that time when you—”
“There are so many stories you could tell.” I cut in.
“So if I mention pro—”
I tug gently on a strand of her hair, cutting her off. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” she shoots back, grinning wider.
I don’t call her bluff. I know my sister too well—she has no problem airing out my embarrassing stories if it means winning. So for the sake of my dignity (and her wedding speech), I decide the grape story can stay buried where it belongs.
Claire is practically vibrating with curiosity. “Okay, now I really need to know what happened with the grapes.”
Mom chuckles from her spot on the couch beside her. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
Lillian leans forward, eyes twinkling. “I do. Tell us everything, Sienna.”
Aria gasps. “Traitor! You’re supposed to be on my side!”
Lillian shrugs innocently. “I’m on the side of good storytelling.”
I shake my head, laughing as I go back to braiding Aria’s hair. “As much as I’d love to tell the grape story… I don’t necessarily want to be killed tonight. Rain check on it?”
“Absolutely not,” Aria shakes her head. “The grape story is going to your grave, Sienna, whether that be tonight or in a hundred years.”
“I’ll take the hundred years,” I quickly say. “I like adventure. And I’m not ready to give that up just yet.”
“Uh-huh,” she grins smugly, nudging my knee. “Exactly what I thought you’d say.”
We dissolve into giggles again, the kind that make your stomach hurt, and your cheeks ache.
We move on easily after that, shifting from braiding hair to touching up our face masks, dramatically quoting our favorite movie lines, and playing a chaotic round of “who knows the bride best” trivia that quickly devolves into Aria accusing all of us of cheating.
Hours later, when everything has quieted down, Mom stands and catches my eye, nodding toward the deck door. I nod and follow her outside. She tops off my glass of wine, and we settle on the lounger, side by side.
“You’ve been quieter than usual tonight,” she says, taking a sip of her wine while eyeing me. “Everything okay, honey?”
I swirl my wine around the glass, watching it spin. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
“About Milo?”
I nod, staring out at the ocean. God, even saying his name in my head makes my stomach flip.
“It’s too soon, Mom. We’ve known each other for like…
ten days? But it doesn’t feel like ten days.
It feels like I’ve known him forever, and still not long enough.
I think I might be falling in love with him. And that scares the hell out of me.”
Even saying that out loud terrifies me.
Mom is quiet for a moment, then she wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close, just as she used to when I was little. I rest my head on her shoulder, breathing in her familiar perfume.
“Honey,” she says softly, rubbing gentle circles on my back. “Love doesn’t always wait for the perfect timeline. Sometimes it sneaks up on you when you’re not looking. And when it does… it doesn’t feel too soon. It feels right.”
I close my eyes, letting her words settle. “What if I mess it up? What if I’m too much for him? I’m loud and chaotic. I ramble when I’m nervous, and I’ve never stayed in one place long enough for anyone to really see me.”
Mom presses a kiss to the top of my head, holding me tighter. “You’re not too much. You’re exactly you. If he’s the right one, he won’t want less of you—he’ll want all of you. Just as you want all of him.”
I swallow hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “I do want all of him.”
I want his quiet steadiness on my wild days. I want his patience when my brain won’t slow down. I want the way he looks at me like I’m not something to fix, but something to keep exactly as I am.
Mom’s arms tighten around me. “Then let yourself have it, honey. You deserve to be loved exactly as you are. And from what I’ve seen this week… he already does.”
“But you and Dad have always said I need to settle down. Find roots. Stop running from place to place like I’m scared of my own shadow,” I say, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
I try to blink them back, but one slips free anyway.
“That I’m too much for anyone to keep up with long-term…
that one day I’d wake up alone because no one could handle all my pieces. ”
The words taste heavy on my tongue, like old fears I’ve carried for years. I’ve heard versions of that speech too many times—gentle warnings wrapped in love, but warnings all the same. Slow down, Sienna. You’re going to burn out. No one’s going to be able to keep up with you forever.
Mom pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes soft with love.
“We were wrong, honey. We weren’t thinking clearly.
We thought stability meant you had to slow down and become someone quieter, more…
manageable. We worried because we love you so much.
But watching you with Milo these past few days…
we see it now. You don’t need to change.
You just needed someone who loves the way you move through the world, someone who runs beside you instead of trying to slow you down. ”
My chest aches sweetly from her words.
She smiles, a little misty-eyed. “Your father told me the other night that he’s never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Milo. He said, ‘Maybe our girl doesn’t need roots in one place. Maybe she just needs someone who feels like home no matter where she goes.’ And I couldn’t agree more.”
I lean into her again, letting her wrap me in that familiar, grounding hug. “I was so scared you’d both think I was being reckless again.”
“Never,” she whispers. “We just want you to be happy, honey. And we know Milo will be the one to do that.”
A soft laugh bubbles out of me just as the deck door slides open behind us. I glance over my shoulder to see Aria step out with a slightly tipsy smile on her face.
“Room for one more?” she asks, already padding over barefoot.
“Always,” Mom answers, scooting over so Aria can squeeze in on my other side.
Aria curls against me, resting her head on my shoulder. She smells of wine and strawberries. “You okay out here?” she asks, her voice soft but curious. “It looks like you’ve been crying.”
I nod, leaning my head against hers. “Just… talking about Milo. And how fast everything feels. And how much I don’t want it to end.”
Aria squeezes my hand, her thumb brushing my knuckles. “Then don’t let it end. Keep him, Sienna. You’re perfect for each other. You’re chaos, and he’s calm—you balance each other out perfectly.”
I let out a shaky laugh, tears slipping freely now. “I’m scared. What if my chaos gets too loud and he decides he wants someone calmer? Someone who doesn’t feel like a tornado half the time?”
Aria lifts her head and looks at me with a mix of teasing and deep love.
“Then he’s an idiot, and I’ll kick his ass myself.
But I don’t think that’s going to happen.
He looks at your chaos like it’s his favorite thing in the world.
I saw the way you two acted in the pool earlier, and the way he looked at you?
Girl, that man is down bad. It’s like he couldn’t believe you were real. ”
My cheeks instantly turn pink.
“But what if—”
“I don’t want to hear another ‘what if’ from you,” Mom scolds gently, though her tone is full of love. “You two are meant to be. Everyone can see it.”
Aria nods, nestling her cheek against my shoulder. “Whatever you two have going on, I have a feeling it’s going to be something extraordinary.”
I squeeze both their hands, the fear still there but feeling smaller. “I love you both. So much. I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”
“We love you more,” Mom whispers, pulling us both a little closer. “And we’re so proud of you. For letting yourself feel this. For not running from it.”
Aria nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck, her voice warm and sleepy. “If he ever messes up, you know I’ll handle him, right? He’ll regret the day he was born. I’ve got your back, always.”
I laugh through the tears. “You know I can hold my own if he messes up, right?”
“I know,” she murmurs. “It’s just for dramatic effect, obviously. Go with it.”
I smile, patting her head and pulling her closer. The three of us sit on the lounger for a long time, with the stars twinkling overhead, the ocean whispering below, and faint laughter still drifting out from inside.
My heart feels full, scared, and hopeful all at once.
And I realize, with a shaky but steady breath, that I’m falling in love with a man I never saw coming.
For the first time in my life, I’m not running away from it.
I’m running toward it.