(Ridge)
The party was still going when I took Mira back to our room.
She didn’t argue this time.
That told me she was tired, even if she would never admit it out loud while Harlow was still outside acting like the wedding belonged to her too.
Mira held my hand as we walked through the hallway, her dress brushing against my leg with every step. The sound from outside followed us through the walls. Music. Laughter. Harlow’s voice rising above everyone else because she had never learned how to be quiet for long.
Mira looked over her shoulder once and smiled.
“They’re still celebrating,” she said.
“They’ll be celebrating until morning if Harlow gets her way.”
“She probably will.”
“She usually does.”
Mira laughed quietly, and I opened our bedroom door.
The room was quiet and ours. So
