“I had no idea what to expect,” he said. “I’ve never been married before. Almost seems like it shouldn’t be that easy.”

“I’ll be honest,” I said, exhaling, “I think the hardest part is going to be the party I promised for my parents’ sake.”

“You never have been a party girl.”

“Social is not my strong point and you know it.” I managed to keep from saying out loud, And now you’re stuck with me for a year. That kind of thinking would serve no purpose. It was more useful to figure out how we’d navigate everything moving forward, our opposite personalities only one aspect of that.

I tore off a piece of bread and dipped it. It was soft and flavorful and promised an amazing meal if the entrees were even half as delicious.

“I’ll be right by your side,” he said, covering my hand with his.

I let out a little laugh. “Be real. At a party, the last thing you’ll do is stick by any one person’s side, Mr. Social.”

“It’ll be a challenge,” he said, grinning, “but I’ll do my best.” His smile disappeared abruptly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

I tensed because he was suddenly super serious. “What’s up?”

“When your dad offered to have the party at their place and you turned him down, I saw a look cross his face, just for a flash, when you weren’t watching. I suspect his pride might’ve been hurt.”

Oh. Oh, no.

There was an instant sinking feeling in my gut, because I knew without thinking too hard about it that Holden was likely spot on. “That’s why you frowned,” I said, remembering.

I took another sip of champagne that turned into more of a gulp. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt my dad in any way, but…

“We can’t have a party out there, Holden.”

His gaze went to our hands, where he was running his finger over the back of mine, back and forth, a gentle caress that I didn’t hate. “Why can’t we have it out there?”

I looked at his face to see if he was still being serious. He was.

I didn’t even know where to start. “It’s… depressing. It’s overflowing with poverty and struggle.”

“It’s filled with love, Chloe.”

“It’s filled with falling-down buildings and in-need-of-repair steps and missing screens,” I reminded him.

Holden frowned and retracted his hand to grasp the stem of his glass. “It’s got a flower box full of colorful blooms lovingly cared for by, I’m guessing, your mom,” he countered. “It’s got cheery curtains with ruffles at the window and the scent of home-cooked food wafting throughout. It’s got a kitchen filled with an entire flock of bluebirds that your dad lovingly carved for the woman he adores.”