Page 114 of Cold Mercy

“Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me,” I say, still facing the house.

I am seconds away from turning around and teaching him where his place is.

“Charles! Where the hell did you go?”

Maya’s voice rings out, loud and bright, and she appears from the side path waving her phone.

Perfect timing, just like her brother.

Charles practically scurries to her. I nod at him once, slow and mocking.

Good boy, go fetch. Let the adults breathe.

I watch him disappear with Maya, and the tension in my hands finally loosens.

CHAPTER 29

SOPHIA

“Seriously, Elizabeth? A vow?”

I lean against the counter, stirring my coffee while she circles the kitchen like she’s trying to walk off a panic attack.

“You wrote it a month after you met him,” I remind her, raising a brow.

Elizabeth plops into the chair across from me, hands flying dramatically.

“Oh, please, he is trying...”

If she knew every detail of what happened between me and Thomas, I doubt she’d be so cheerfully optimistic. But, as usual, I keep that to myself.

“Sometimes trying isn’t enough, Liz,” I say, handing her a mug. “Let’s forget about him. Tell me how the bride-to-be actually feels.”

Elizabeth exhales, all bravado falling away.

“I’m… stressed,” she admits. “But happy, and having everyone here makes it feel real.”

I tap her wrist lightly.

“If you decide to run, just blink twice at the altar. I’ll handle the rest.”

We both laugh, and for the first time since we got here, it actually feels like us again. No chaos, no overthinking, no men complicating everything. Just Elizabeth in her stupid bridal sweatshirt, hair still messy from sleep, and me standing in the kitchen like we’ve done a hundred times before.

She bumps her hip into mine as she takes her mug. “God, I’m really getting married, aren’t I?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” I say, nudging her back. “But I’ll try not to cry too loudly when James steals you from me at the altar.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’re giving me anxiety.”

The patio door opens, and Charles steps in, leaning casually against the frame with that effortless calm that sometimes borders on annoying.

“You good, sweetheart?” he asks.

Elizabeth’s brows lift for half a second, that ‘oh, something’s going on here’ look she never manages to hide.

“I’m…going to finish my vow,” she says, already escaping. “Good luck.”

She wiggles her fingers in a half-wave and disappears around the corner, leaving the air noticeably heavier the moment she’s gone.