Chapter 40 #3
But then his gaze settled back on me, his eyes shining.
He said that I was the one who got myself to that place.
He reminded everyone how hard I worked, pulling double shifts just to afford the chance to go to university, and that I was the one who put in the hours to finish the year with straight firsts in every single module.
The whole time he was talking, Mum was desperately dabbing at her eyes, trying not to let the tears ruin her makeup.
I looked over at Carrie, and my breath caught.
She was looking at me with a soft, unwavering intensity, as if I was the only person in the entire world.
It was overwhelming—the sheer amount of love at that table was enough to make my head spin.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I felt like I finally belonged exactly where I was.
As Dad finished his speech, the air felt charged with a pride so thick it was almost tangible. "To Alex," he said, raising his glass high.
"To Alex," Mum and Carrie echoed in unison, the crystal clinking with a delicate, musical chime.
I felt the prickle of tears threatening to spill, so I did what I always did: I retreated into a bit of fucking awkwardness.
I looked down at my plate, mumbling, "Yeah, yeah...
thanks," as I waved a hand dismissively, desperately trying to play off the fact that my throat felt like I’d swallowed a golf ball.
"It’s just some coursework, init? No big deal. "
"It is a very big deal, Alex," Carrie said softly.
Her voice wasn't the commanding tone of a professor right then; it was just Carrie.
She reached under the table, her hand finding my knee and giving it a firm, grounding squeeze.
"Don't diminish your light just because you're not used to it being this bright. "
I looked up, meeting her gaze, and the smirk she gave me was so full of warmth it almost hurt.
"She's always been like this, Caroline," Mum chuckled, finally dabbing the corner of her eye with a silk napkin. "Give her a compliment and she looks like she’s looking for the nearest exit. Stubborn as her father, this one."
"I heard that," Dad grinned, taking a hearty sip of the wine. He let out a low whistle as the vintage hit his palate. "Blimey, that’s actually alright, isn't it? Better than the stuff in the box, anyway."
The table broke into easy laughter, the heavy emotional weight lifting into something light and celebratory.
I finally let out the breath I’d been holding, leaning back into the plush velvet of my chair.
I watched them—my parents, who finally looked rested, and Carrie, who looked like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
"So," I said, trying to regain my 'cool' as I picked up my own glass. "Now that the mushy stuff was out of the way... who was going to explain to me what 'confit' actually meant before the food got there?"
Carrie leaned in closer, her shoulder brushing mine. "It means it was cooked slowly in its own fat, darling," she whispered, her lips grazing my ear. "Much like how I’m going to spend the rest of the evening slowly making you pay for that restraint comment from earlier."
I nearly choked on my wine, my face heating up instantly, while my parents blissfully carried on talking about the bread basket. She was going to fucking kill me one day. She’d say something so fucking sultry in my ear that I would actually choke and not come back again.
As the appetisers arrived, the conversation shifted to the upcoming trip. Carrie began describing the villa she’d booked on the outskirts of Rome—a place with ancient stone walls, a private vineyard, and a view of the rolling hills that sounded like something out of a dream.
"I’m just looking forward to having her to myself for a while," Carrie said, her hand momentarily appearing above the table to brush a stray hair behind my ear. "No lectures, no deadlines. Just the sun, the wine, and Alex."
"It sounds incredible, Caroline," Mum said, her eyes wistful as she listened to the description of the Italian coast. "We’ve never been much further than a caravan in Wales, have we, Phil? Italy... that’s the stuff of films."
I watched Carrie’s expression as my mum spoke.
Her eyes softened, and that calculating look entered her gaze—the one she got when she was already mentally opening her fucking banking app.
I could practically see the gears turning; she was probably already checking the availability of a first-class flight for two more people, or scouting a villa with a ground-floor suite that would be easier on my mum’s joints.
I chuckled, shaking my head and nudging her shoulder with mine. "Don't you dare, Carrie," I whispered, though I was smiling.
"Don't I dare what, darling?" she asked, playing completely innocent while sipping her wine.
"I knew that look. You were about five minutes away from booking them a flight on a random Tuesday just because you could," I teased. "You had a serious problem with wanting to make everyone’s dreams come true at once."
Carrie tilted her head, her smirk turning elegant and unrepentant. "And was that such a terrible trait to have? If I had the means to replace a caravan in Wales with a balcony in Sorrento, why shouldn't I?"
Dad laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Don't you go spoiling us too much, Caroline. You’ve already done more for this family than we ever expected."
"I haven't even started," Carrie murmured, and the way she said it—so calm and certain—made me realise she was serious. To her, this wasn't about the money; it was about building a fortress of comfort around the people I loved.
I reached over and took her hand under the table, squeezing it tightly. She was this incredibly powerful, sometimes terrifying woman, but there, with my parents, she was just... ours.
"Well," I said, raising my glass to break the spell before I got too soppy again. "To Italy. And to the fact that I was officially a second-year student who didn't have to look at a textbook for at least three months.”
As the main courses were served, Dad leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye that told me I was about to be the evening’s fucking entertainment.
"The thing was, Caroline," he started, ignoring my warning glare, "we had no idea what we were doing back then. We had Alex's grandparents helping when they could, but really, we were just making it up as we went. Like the time she was three..."