Blake shook his head and turned his face to the water. Just then, the sun reemerged from the clouds, illuminating his skin, which was fair but flawless. “This town is giving you a hard time,” Blake said. “But for all its faults, it is really beautiful. It is small enough to feel manageable, but it has a sprawling history. It adapts to the times—they’re still building monuments here. This is a town of colleges, of intellectual debates. The Metro tells you how many minutes until the next train. Baristas learn your name. This is a place of marble palaces but also of the tiny toy store on H Street that has been owned by the same family for sixty years. People move in and out of here, the tide sweeps in and retreats with every election, but there is something dependable about DC. It doesn’t try to be quaint, unlike Charleston, which is overrun by carriages pulling tourists down the Battery.”

“Someone call the mayor,” Wallis said, raising her hand. “DC has a new spokesman.”

“I had no idea I could like this place as much as I do.” He pulled Wallis close; she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’d been coming back and forth for some time, and never fully engaged with it. I didn’t even really ever unpack. But I’ve been happier here than I have anywhere else. Even when I am supposed to be in South Carolina, I’m here. Maybe if every city had a Wallis, I would be as comfortable as I am now.”

Wallis looked at Blake with an expression that suggested she felt exactly the same. “You’ve talked me out of it,” she said. “California dreams will remain just that, wisps of fantasy that fade once I awake.”

Blake grinned broadly and kissed her on the mouth. “Can she also promise that she won’t trade me in for someone else?”

Wallis laughed. “Who in the world would I trade you for?”

Although Blake was still smiling—he was always smiling—I could see he was serious. His eyes flicked to me, and I wondered if he was thinking not so much about who Wallis would otherwise prefer, but who I would choose for her. He wanted my approval.

True, a man from the Darley family would, even a month ago, never have been my first choice. But Blake was real, their relationship was happening, and I realized with a start that it didn’t worry me so much, after all. I wouldn’t get my love, but my sister would—had, actually—and he was here, and good, and kind, and the type to share his snacks and jacket and say nothing of it. Here was a man who was with us on a Sunday. Here was a man who was talking about giving up his hometown, his former life, his roots, his mother’s expectations, to be with us.