Page 154 of The Bourbon Bastard
Fast footsteps pound their way upstairs. “Karaoke time," Ivy announces. Her hair's damp from pool humidity, and she's grinning like she has everything she wants. “And the birthday girl is demanding a duet with Thorne. Anyone else brave enough for karaoke?"
"Hard pass," Sebastian says.
"I'll watch," I offer, standing. Because this is what family does—shows up, even for off-key karaoke. Especially for off-key karaoke starring her brother.
Downstairs is chaos. Half the teenagers are still in swimsuits, dripping their way from the pool to the rec room where the karaoke machine waits. I head toward the music and take in Madison's delighted face when Thorne actually picks up the microphone. Ivy sidles up next to him, her shoulder tucked against his.
He's terrible at karaoke. Madison is surprisingly really good. I pull out my phone and snap a picture of them mid-duet. Ivy is next to them, doubled over laughing, the pure joy of this ordinary, extraordinary moment.
Sebastian appears at my shoulder with two glasses, handing me one. The 2008 reserve—the year I left Kentucky, the year I thought I'd never come back.
"To new partnerships," he says.
"To coming home," I counter.
We clink glasses. The bourbon is smooth and sweet, tasting like courage and belonging all at once.
On the makeshift stage, Thorne pulls Ivy closer, missing half the lyrics but not seeming to care. Madison cheers from the front row. Mother and Rosalia sit together, both smiling at the beautiful disaster unfolding.
Everyone found their way here. To family. To belonging. To home.
In three months, I'll meet Olivier Beaumont. Maybe he's a stranger. Maybe he's the ghost of my first heartbreak. Either way, I'll show up. I'll do the work. I'll build something that matters.
I raise my glass again, this time just to myself.
My turn.
