28. Freya
— ? —
Freya
Beck Cooper, Annie’s billionaire cousin, walked straight toward me with a knowing smile.
I’d been doing my best to blend into the background at the Cooper Family Foundation’s annual charity gala, which was difficult when you were eight months pregnant and wearing a sparkly dress.
The ballroom of the Four Seasons was dripping with crystal chandeliers and old money, the kind of event where a single silent auction item could fund a small country.
Rex had disappeared to get me sparkling water, my constant craving these days, leaving me alone near the ice sculpture that was slowly melting into an abstract interpretation of a swan.
And now Beck Cooper was heading my way with the confident stride of a man who owned half of Texas and knew it.
I’d heard about him, of course. Everyone in ranch country knew the Coopers. Beck had taken over the failing family empire in his late twenties and turned it into something legendary. He was also, apparently, Annie’s cousin, which made this interaction feel like walking into a minefield.
“You must be Freya Waller.” He stopped in front of me, all easy charm and sharp eyes. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
“You have?”
“You’re the one who put Annie in her place at that party.” His smile widened. “Word travels fast in Texas high society. By the time the story reached me, you’d apparently made her cry into her champagne and flee the state.”
“That’s… a slight exaggeration.”
“Probably. But I appreciate the spirit of the thing.” He offered his hand, and I shook it, still trying to figure out if this was friendly or some kind of elaborate family revenge scheme. “Annie’s always been dramatic. She needed someone to call her out.”
Before I could respond, a woman appeared at Beck’s side. She was stunning, wearing a dress that probably had designers weeping with envy, and she was looking at me with warm curiosity.
“Scarlett Cooper,” she said, offering her own hand. “Beck’s wife. Please ignore anything he says. He thinks he’s charming.”
“I am charming.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You married me anyway.”
“A decision I question daily.” But she was smiling, and the look that passed between them was so full of love and history that I felt like I was intruding on something private.
“Scarlett had her own Annie situation,” Beck explained. “My mother was… not a fan, initially.”
“Not a fan is putting it mildly.” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “She tried to break us up at least three separate times.”
“She came around eventually.”
I laughed, the kind that made my sides hurt and the baby kick in protest. These two were ridiculous, and perfect, and exactly the kind of people I’d never expected to find in Rex’s world.
“Sorry,” I managed, wiping at my eyes. “It’s just- I spent so long feeling like I didn’t belong here. Like everyone was judging me for where I came from or how I ended up married to Rex. And now…”
“Now you realize that half the people in this room have their own messy stories?” Scarlett’s expression softened. “Trust me, the old money families are full of scandals. They just have better PR.”
“The key is not caring what anyone thinks,” Beck added. “Easier said than done, I know. But once you stop trying to win approval from people who were never going to give it anyway, everything gets simpler.”
“He sounds wise, but really he just stopped going to family dinners for three years,” Scarlett said.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Rex appeared at my side, sparkling water in hand, his eyes flicking between me and the Coopers with obvious curiosity. “Making friends?”
“Beck and Scarlett were just telling me about their mother-in-law drama,” I said. “Apparently we’re not the only ones with complicated family dynamics.”
“The Coopers invented complicated family dynamics,” Beck said, shaking Rex’s hand. “Good to see you, Waller. I heard you told off your entire family at some dinner a few months back. Very impressive.”
“News really does travel fast.”
“It’s a small world in this circle.” Beck grinned. “We should get together sometime. Dinner, maybe. Compare notes on difficult mothers and dramatic relatives.”
“I’d like that,” Rex said, and I could tell he meant it.
Scarlett took my arm, steering me toward the bar. “Come on. Let’s get you off your feet and you can tell me more about how you destroyed Annie. I want every detail.”
We found a quiet corner near the windows, and I spent the next twenty minutes recounting the party confrontation while Scarlett laughed and gasped in all the right places.
Beck and Rex drifted into their own conversation nearby, something about land management and water rights that should have been boring but seemed to genuinely engage them both.
“You know what I like about you?” Scarlett said eventually. “You don’t apologize for who you are. So many women in this world-” she gestured at the glittering ballroom “-spend their whole lives trying to fit in. Smoothing their edges, making themselves smaller. You didn’t do that.”
“I tried to, at first. It didn’t work.”
“It never does.” She squeezed my hand. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re exactly what Rex needed. Someone who wouldn’t let him hide behind his money and his family name.”
“He’s changed a lot.”
“The good ones do. When they have a reason to.” Her eyes drifted to Beck, and that soft look returned. “It took Beck years to stand up to his mother. Years of me wondering if I was enough, if he’d ever choose me over his family’s approval. And then one day, he did.”
I was about to respond when the baby kicked, hard enough to make me gasp.
“You okay?” Scarlett asked.
“Yeah, she’s just-” Another kick, stronger this time. “She’s very active tonight.”
Rex was at my side in an instant, his hand finding my belly. “What’s wrong? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. She’s just kicking.”
His whole face changed. We’d felt her move dozens of times since the island, but something about tonight. The excitement, maybe, or the noise of the gala had her doing somersaults.
“Oh,” Rex breathed as a particularly strong kick landed against his palm. “Oh, wow.”
“Rex, people are staring.”
“I don’t care.”
And then, to my absolute mortification, he dropped to his knees. Right there in the middle of the Cooper Foundation charity gala, surrounded by half of Texas high society, Rex Waller knelt in front of me and pressed both hands to my belly.
“Hi, baby girl,” he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. “I know there’s a lot going on out here, but you need to let your mama rest, okay? She’s working very hard growing you.”
The baby kicked again, right against his hand.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He looked up at me, and his eyes were bright with joy. “She’s going to be stubborn. I can tell already.”
“She gets it from you.”
“Absolutely not. I’m extremely reasonable.”
“You’re on your knees in the middle of a formal gala.”
“Because my daughter is talking to me.” He pressed a kiss to my belly, right through the fabric of my dress. “Priorities, Freya.”
Around us, the crowd had definitely noticed. I could see phones appearing, cameras flashing, society matrons whispering behind their hands. By tomorrow, this would be all over the gossip pages.
I found I didn’t care either.
“Get up,” I said, tugging at his jacket. “You’re making a scene.”
“I like making scenes.” But he stood, pulling me close, his hand still resting on my belly. “Let them watch. Let them all see how happy you make me.”
Beck appeared beside us, grinning. “Well, that’s going to be the talk of the gala.”
“Better than another boring charity auction,” Rex said.
Scarlett was beaming. “I like you two. We’re definitely doing dinner.”
We stayed another hour, mingling and laughing and feeling, for the first time, like we actually belonged in this glittering world.
Not because of money or family names or any of the things I’d thought mattered.
But because we’d found our people, the ones who understood that love was messy and families were complicated and the only thing that really mattered was choosing each other, every day, no matter who was watching.
The baby kicked once more as we headed for the exit.
“Soon,” I whispered to her. “We’ll meet you soon, little one.”
I couldn’t wait.