Loss and grief were funny like that. She knew they only hurt her because of the love she felt, but it never made a memory easier to visit. No matter how many years went by. Sometimes it made being in their childhood home tricky; sometimes it made being in Arbor Bay even more so. For every good memory of Art and Stella De Carlo, there was the blaring fact that there was no way to make new memories with them.

There hadn’t been since Sloane was fifteen, and there never would be again.

Now, thrown back into a past conversation with her mother, thanks to Brady’s totally normal question, Sloane was reminded that he hadn’t know her wild, fun-loving parents. And they would never know him.

This time she was sure Brady had noticed the change in her. Sloane didn’t want to explain, so she fought to embrace the humor in her answer and not the familiar ache of loss that had reared its ugly head again.

“They were in the pageant,” she confirmed. “But I don’t think what they did will work for us. See, my parents had been dating a while at the time, and my mom wanted them to finally move in with each other. Dad, who was a self-proclaimed commitment-phobe, freaked out. So much so that he actually ignored her for a few days leading up to the pageant. Then, when he showed up and tried to apologize for bugging out, she said they would do the pageant because she’d already committed to it, but after that? No way, José. They were through.” The ache in her chest softened. The swell of love became easier to feel. This was a good memory. One her mother had absolutely loved.

Sloane continued with a grin. “They had this dance routine they’d practiced for their talent, but Dad decided to scrap it as soon as they got onstage. Instead he sat my mom down on one of the props and sang ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ by Bonnie Tyler to her. A cappella.”

Brady laughed out in surprise. “No way.”

Sloane nodded, trying not to laugh herself. “Yes way.”

Brady whistled.

“Oof. That’s a rough song choice. I probably would have left the building. Those high notes are like nails on a chalkboard.”

“Well, Dad thought it was worth doing for love. He even sang the high notes. No music. Just him. Mom said it was so embarrassing, but Dad stood by his reasoning that it was the only way she’d see he was all in, despite being clueless at first.”

“And I’m guessing, since I’ve met you and your brother, that it smoothed things over between them?”

“Definitely. Mom said he could have stopped at the chorus and she would have forgiven him. It was the single weirdest and sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. They were married six months later.”