“We promise not to hurt the flowers or the birds or the pretty butterflies,” Isaac, the more responsible of the twins, assured her. “We’ll be good, Auntie.”

She gave them each a quick squeeze and then set the box of table toppers on the floor. “There you go, boys. I’m so proud of you for being so helpful today.”

I watched them carefully carry a topper to each table, walking like they had priceless artwork in their chubby hands. Shaking my head at how adorable Mila’s boys were, I went to help my mom set up the buffet along the bar top. The smells of all of my favorite foods were making my stomach grumble, but I wasn’t sure I could eat any of it without being sick. For the first time in forever, my nerves were getting the better of me, and I disliked even that small sign of weakness when I’d been taught better than to allow anything to get past my defenses.

Seeing me, Mom smiled and shooed me toward the door. “I have this taken care of, sweetheart. Go relax. It’s your birthday. I don’t want you spending it working.”

I grimaced. “I’d rather work, though. It will take my mind off…things.”

Things like, Ryan hadn’t arrived yet. Most of my other New York family members had arrived the day before, including Ciana and Garret. Zayne was in Italy on business, but he’d called me earlier that morning to wish me happy birthday, and Zariah was in the middle of an important case for her internship at the law firm where she worked while finishing her last year of law school. She’d sent me a text earlier, along with a promise that the next time I came for a visit, we would spend an entire day together.

But Ryan hadn’t so much as called or even texted to tell me happy birthday. I knew there was a chance he wouldn’t arrive until right before the party was supposed to start, but I’d hoped he would have a little extra time to spend with me.

He’d been acting weird lately, though. All summer, he’d been distant. I understood that work was getting crazy for him since he was taking on more and more responsibilities from his dad, but we’d barely spent any time together at all.

And the worst part…

It felt like I was losing my best friend, and I didn’t understand why. He wouldn’t talk to me about it. The few times I’d asked what was going on or if he was angry with me, he either changed the subject or quickly ended our call. When I’d come home from New York at the beginning of the school term, I hadn’t even cried like I normally did when I had to leave him.

We still spoke on the phone every day, but our video calls were few and far between. It was as if he didn’t want to look at me, when all I ached to do was see his face.