Not when Vic is beside me. Not when his hand is resting warm and solid on my thigh beneath the table, brushing lazy circles against my skin as confirmation of his protection and loyalty. Not when every time I glance at him, he’s already looking at me like nothing and no one else matters.

So, I focus on us. On the way, we laugh, celebrate, and pretend like tonight is just another moment in time.

Even when the host, a well-loved comedian, steps onto the stage and smirks before saying, “Now, y’all know we can’t have an awards show without a little drama. But Kerry Kind said, ‘Why have a red carpet moment when I can steal the whole show?’”

Laughter erupts, and I shake my head, smirking. Vic, mildly amused at best, leans in, his lips barely grazing my ear. “He better be careful, or he won’t make it to the end of the show.”

Thus far, it’s been a clean sweep. Vic’s won every award he was nominated for, but now it’s time for the one he wants to win the most. The final award of the night. Culinary Master of the Year.

The presenter slowly opens the envelope, and the second they say “Victor Grimes,” the entire room stands to their feet.

I clap my hands so hard they sting. I beam proudly as Vic rises from his seat, brushing a lingering kiss against my temple before heading to the stage. He stands at the podium, gripping his award, his voice steady but thick with emotion.

“This… this means everything.” He exhales, running a hand over his beard before continuing. “For a long time, I didn’t think I’d ever stand on this stage again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I lost myself. I lost my passion for cooking, creating, and making art out of food. As you all know, I lost two of the few people I loved the most. Two people who helped shape the most important parts of me.”

The room is silent, hanging on to his every word.

“But I was saved. By love. By family.” His throat bobs, and I watch as his eyes sweep over the crowd. “I have to start by saying thank you to my father, the man who built me. My late wife, the woman who loved me through every season of my life. My mother, who held me together when I was breaking. My brother, who always believed I could find my way back. My girls. My daughters. Syd and Ari.” His voice breaks just a little, but he holds steady. “They saved me. Their beauty overcame the ugliest time of my life and reminded me that love doesn’t end; it transforms. It resurrects.”

I press my fingers to my heart, fighting the swell of emotion in my chest.