Chapter 53

The moon had risen high by the time Eli stood from the porch. His shadow stretched long across the garden, cast in silver light. He dusted his hands on his jeans, glanced at the stars once, then turned to me.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, not assuming—just hoping.

I nodded, arms still folded around my knees. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

He smiled, small and calm. "Good night, Joy."

"Good night, Eli."

He gave Elsa a little nod too, as if she needed to be formally dismissed. She blinked once and then closed her eyes again like royalty.

I watched him walk down the path to the front gate, his steps unhurried, unafraid. I listened until the quiet swallowed him up, and the screen door creaked behind me as I went back inside.

Upstairs, the room was still. The ceiling fan hummed gently overhead, and the windows were open to the night breeze. I lay on my side, curled slightly, the blanket pulled up to my chest.

Elsa had settled herself on the pillow beside me, her tiny breaths steady and slow. I stared at the ceiling, still tasting the echo of yes in my mouth like something sweet and strange. It didn't feel real yet.

Then came a soft knock.

"Joy?" Grandma's voice, gentle as ever.

The door creaked open a little before I could answer, and she peeked in with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Can I come in for a second?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

She stepped in with her hands folded like she was trying not to look too excited, but she wasn't doing a good job hiding it.

"So," she said, drawing out the word as she perched at the edge of the bed, "Eli told me something very interesting before he left."

I rolled my eyes lightly. "Of course he did."

"He said you said yes." Her voice rose like a balloon. "To the event."

I didn't look at her, but I couldn't stop the corner of my mouth from twitching.

"I did."

She clapped her hands softly like she didn't want to wake the whole house. "Oh, baby. That makes me so happy. You're gonna look so lovely, I just know it."

"I don't even have a dress."

Her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "That's why we're going shopping!"

I sat up slightly. "Shopping?"

"Yes, ma'am. First thing tomorrow. We're going to get you something that makes you feel like a princess.

"And," she said, standing now, her eyes twinkling, "I've decided I'm going too."

I blinked. "What?"

"Oh yes. I can't let you two go without backup. Besides, I haven't danced in years. I'm sure there'll be some old fool out there who remembers how to hold a woman properly."

I laughed before I could stop it. Just a little—just a breathy sound—but it was real.

She smiled, satisfied. "There it is."

She turned to leave, pausing at the doorway.

"Tomorrow," she said. "We'll find something soft. Something strong. Something that fits the girl you've always been."

And then she slipped out, the door clicking softly behind her.

I lay back down, staring at the ceiling again until I fell asleep.

The next morning came earlier than I wanted.

Grandma knocked on the door before the sun had even finished yawning, and I answered with a groggy, barely-human grunt. She cracked the door open, already dressed in one of her flay gowns and a purse under her arm like we were about to storm a runway.

"Wake up, fashion queen," she chirped. "It's dress day!"

I flopped deeper into the pillow. "I regret everything."

"You'll regret more if we get to the boutique and everything left is sequins and shame."

She disappeared before I could groan again, leaving the scent of hibiscus soap trailing behind her like a signature.

An hour later, after a cup of lukewarm tea and me brushing Elsa's fur off my only decent blouse, we were on our way. Grandma walked with purpose, dragging me through the small town center like we were on a mission to recover stolen treasure. The little dress shop sat tucked between a flower shop and a bakery, with faded gold lettering on the glass that read: "Estelle's Formal Wear—For All Life's Occasions."

It smelled like lavender and old carpet inside, and the store clerk looked up from her magazine with a smile that said I'm either going to love this or hate every second of it.

Grandma clapped her hands. "Alright, let's find you a showstopper."

"I just need something simple," I murmured.

"No, no, no. You need something that makes Elijah's brain turn to mashed potatoes."

"Grandma."

"What? We need him distracted, not thinking about his plants the whole evening."

I sighed and let her go.

She moved like a woman with a vision, flipping through racks with military precision. Meanwhile, I lingered behind, trailing my fingers along fabrics that felt too bright, too soft, too not me.

"Try this," she said, holding up a navy dress with sparkles across the chest.

"I'm not going to a pageant."

"This is subtle sparkle. Just enough to say, 'Hey, I'm healing, but I might still steal your man.'"

"Grandma."

She tossed the dress at me and kept searching.

Ten minutes and six sarcastic comments later, I was in the changing room, wrestling with a zipper that seemed determined to ruin my life. The navy dress clung in all the wrong places and somehow managed to make me look like a sad disco ball.

I stepped out anyway.

Grandma looked up and made a face.

"Okay, not that one. You look like you're about to introduce the weather on a morning talk show."

"Thank God. I thought it was just me."

"Back in. Let's try the green."

I groaned and turned back into the fitting room. The green one was satin, soft and a little too silky for my comfort, but when I stepped out, Grandma's eyes lit up.

She clutched her chest. "Oh, Joy. That one's trouble."

I glanced at myself in the mirror. It wasn't terrible. The color made my skin look... warmer. My waist looked defined, my legs not completely useless. I didn't look like a girl who lived in shadows.

"You're sure I don't look like a bridesmaid?"

"If you do, then it's the kind who steals the groom and gets away with it."

I laughed. Full-on this time. The sound startled even me.

The store clerk, who had clearly decided to join the party, nodded in agreement. "That one's got power," she said. "Wear it with heels and a little lip gloss? You'll cause a scene."

"I don't want to cause a scene."

Grandma looped her arm through mine. "Sometimes, baby, causing a scene is the only way to remind people you still exist."

I didn't reply.

But I didn't disagree.

We left with the green dress folded carefully in a box, a pair of low heels I swore would betray me before the night was over, and Grandma humming like she'd just won the lottery.

"Now we just need earrings. And maybe some lashes. Just a little drama."

"I'm not gluing anything to my face."

"You're no fun," she said, pretending to sulk. "But you'll be beautiful anyway."

As we walked back through the market, bags swinging at her side, she looked at me with a grin so proud it hurt.

"I can't wait to see the look on his face."

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to smile.

"Neither can I."

The night arrived faster than I wanted it to.

The hours between lunch and sunset blurred into a mess of combing hair, second-guessing shoe choices, and trying not to throw up from sheer anticipation. Grandma, of course, was in her element—whistling as she fixed her earrings, powdering her cheeks, and dancing barefoot in the kitchen while waiting for the iron to heat.

Meanwhile, I stared at myself in the mirror like I was meeting a stranger.

The green dress fit better than I remembered. It hugged and draped in all the right places without trying too hard. Grandma had helped me pin my hair back in a soft twist, a few strands left loose on purpose. She even dabbed a little gloss on my lips and dusted highlighter across my cheekbones like it was holy oil.

I didn't look like someone hiding anymore.

I looked like someone learning how to take up space again.

Downstairs, Grandma let out a long, dramatic gasp as I stepped onto the last stair.

"Ah! Look at my granddaughter! If I didn't know better, I'd think I raised a goddess."

I rolled my eyes, but the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. "You're being dramatic."

"I was born dramatic. Now twirl for me."

I did not twirl.

But I did laugh.

A soft knock came at the front door. Not loud. Just enough.

Grandma's grin widened. "That'll be Elijah. You ready?"

I paused.

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

I nodded.

She opened the door with flair, like she was announcing royalty. "Elijah Camden, as I live and breathe. Don't you look sharp."

I couldn't see him yet. I was still rounding the corner from the staircase, Elsa trailing beside me like a silent lady-in-waiting.

But I heard his voice. Quiet. Nervous.

"Evening, Martha. You look lovely."

"Flattery will get you extra pie," she replied.

Then I stepped into the room.

He turned.

And everything stopped.

He wore a navy-blue button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms, tucked neatly into charcoal trousers. Clean shoes. Combed hair. He'd even shaved.

But it was his eyes that froze when they met mine.

Like the moment punched the breath out of him.

"Wow," he said, before he could stop himself.

I glanced down, heat rising up my neck.

"You clean up alright yourself," I said, barely above a whisper.

Grandma watched us like she was watching her favorite soap opera.

"I'll give you two a moment," she said, slowly backing away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Which, to be fair, leaves you very few boundaries."

The door shut behind her.

Elsa sniffed at Eli's shoes and gave an approving thump of her hind leg before hopping back to her corner.

He looked at me again, slower this time, taking in the dress, the way I'd done my hair, like he was seeing someone he'd always known but never seen quite like this before.

"You look beautiful," he said.

My throat tightened.

"Thank you."

We stood there in the quiet for a beat too long.

Then he held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

I looked at it. Strong. Warm. Familiar.

And for once, I didn't hesitate.

I slipped my hand into his.

And just like that, we stepped into a night neither of us would forget.

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