Chapter 7
I waited until Ivy finally stopped pacing.
It took a few minutes. She circled the room twice more, ran a hand through her hair, then sank onto the edge of the bed with a frustrated sigh.
“I don’t want to go,” she muttered. “I already told him I was busy p>
“You don’t have to,” I said, sitting beside her. “Not tonight p>
She looked at me, hopeful and wary at the same time. “Then what am I supposed to do p>
I tilted my head, pretending to think, even though the idea had already settled quietly in my mind. “There’s a party downtown p>
Her eyes lit up immediately. “A party p>
“Yeah,” I said. “Music. People. Noise. Somewhere you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone p>
She hesitated. “But Grandpa p>
Ivy stared at me for a second longer, then her mouth curved into a grin so sudden and bright it made my chest ache.
“Okay,” she said. “Yes. Absolutely yes p>
She jumped up from the bed and hurried toward her closet. “I’m wearing the black dress. The one you got for me p>
I smiled despite myself. “I knew you would p>
While she started pulling clothes off hangers, I slipped out of her room and walked down the hall toward the bedroom that used to be mine.
Lucas had never changed it.
The door opened easily, the familiar creak still there. The room smelled faintly like dust and old perfume. Everything was exactly where I’d left it. The dresser. The mirror. The bed with its neatly folded throw blanket.
I stood there for a moment longer than necessary.
This room held a version of me that felt far away now. Younger. Lighter. Someone who hadn’t learned how quickly things could be taken from you.
I opened the closet.
Most of my clothes were still there, hanging neatly like they’d been waiting. I ran my fingers along the fabric, finally stopping at a dress tucked toward the back.
Black. Simple and backless. The kind of dress that didn’t beg for attention but took it anyway.
I pulled it out and held it up, considering.
Tonight’s the night of letting loose so why not.
I changed quickly, stepping into the dress and smoothing it down over my hips. It fit like it always had, hugging in all the right places, reminding me of things I didn’t often let myself remember.
I found a pair of heels beneath the bed, slipped them on, and stepped in front of the mirror.
For a second, I barely recognized myself.
My hair fell loose over my shoulders. My makeup was minimal, but something about the whole look felt… intentional.
I grabbed my bag and headed back to Ivy’s room.
She turned when she saw me and froze.
“Elaine,” she breathed. “Oh my God p>
I laughed. “What p>
“You look insane,” she said, crossing the room and spinning me slightly by the shoulders. “Like actually unfair p>
I glanced at her outfit. The black dress hugged her waist, her hair curled softly around her face. She looked beautiful. Youthful. Alive.
“You look amazing,” I said honestly. “Exactly why we’re doing this p>
She bounced on her heels. “Let’s go before I get cold fet and change my mind p>
We slipped out of the house quietly, the night air cool against my skin. Ivy hummed along to the radio as I drove, her energy contagious. I let myself relax just a little, letting the moment be what it was.
Downtown was already alive when we arrived.
The street glowed with neon lights and laughter spilling from open doors. The bass from the club pulsed through the pavement, vibrating faintly under my feet as we joined the short line outside
The bouncer barely glanced at us before checking our IDs and waving us in.
Inside, the air was thick with sound and movement. Lights flashed. Bodies pressed together. The music was loud enough that thoughts couldn’t survive long.
Good.
We headed straight for the dance floor after getting a drink for ourselves.
Ivy grabbed my hands, pulling me into the crowd, laughing as the music swallowed us whole. We danced without caring who was watching, moving together the way we always had when no one else mattered.
For a while, I forgot everything.
Forgot my grandfather. Forgot Zane Whitmore. Forgot the quiet fear that had been sitting in my chest all year since I discovered what was happening to me.
I watched Ivy laugh, really laugh, her head thrown back, eyes bright, free in a way she hadn’t been in weeks.
This was who she was supposed to be.
Not someone standing across from a stranger in a contract marriage.
I danced with her until my feet ached and my hair stuck to my neck. Until sweat and joy blurred together. Until the night wrapped around us and refused to let go.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, as the music surged and the lights flickered, I knew this night mattered.
Not because of where we were.
But because of what I was buying her.
Time.