“This is Allison,” Justin says, and a man comes up to her and puts his arm around her shoulders. He’s tall, and his black hair is folded over, and he is holding the hand of a little girl who looks exactly like her mother. “This is Max, her husband, and their daughter, Alex.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Allison says, coming to me and taking me in her arms. Her husband smiles at me and nods, his arm never leaving her. “Why am I not surprised that you managed to snag the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” she says to Justin and pushes his shoulder. “Michael!” she yells. “Come meet Dylan’s mom.” She turns to me. “I’ve heard nothing but Dylan, Dylan, Dylan since he came back.”

“Hi,” Michael says from beside Dylan, and he looks just like his father.

“Here.” A woman comes over with strawberry blond hair and hands Justin a baby who just looks up at him. “Go see Uncle Justin.”

“This,” Justin says, cuddling the baby in his arms, “is Trouble number two or number one, depending on the day.” The woman throws her head back and laughs, and I finally get that she is Zoe.

“It’s so good to meet the one who has this one on his toes,” she says, leaning forward and giving me a hug. “You are too pretty for him.”

“Shut up,” Justin says, and she gasps.

“Not in front of the baby,” she says, and the little girl in Justin’s arms just smiles at her. “Viktor,” she says, looking over her shoulder, and a man comes forward, his brown eyes lighting up when he spots his daughter. “This is my husband, Viktor.”

He reaches his hand out, and I shake his. “Nice to meet you,” he says, smiling. “You did a good job with Dylan.”

“Thank you,” I say, and I swear my heart speeds up and my neck gets hot.

“Okay, where is Mom?” Justin asks, and Zoe looks around. “I think she’s in the bathroom.”

“There she is.” The voice sounds familiar as I look over and see Zara. She takes me in her arms when she gets to me. “My favorite muse,” she says. “I had the best time shopping.”

I laugh now. “I really hope that you’re done,” I say. “I have more clothes than I know what to do with.”

“Um, if I have a credit card,” she says, “I put it to good use.” I look over as the door opens, and Evan comes in with a little girl on his hip. She has the same hair as her mom, and it’s up in little pigtails.

“Holy shit, that’s his woman?” he says, looking at me and then looking at his wife who glares at him. “Sorry, sweet Zara.”