Page 108 of The Exception

She pointed back to her seat where the man she’d been sitting with stood with his hands in his pockets, looking like this was not his idea as a little boy ran circles around him.

“I know you were a big part of making this happen for him and I wanted to thank you.”

She must have no idea, Sonya thought. She shifted on her feet to keep her heels from pressing into the soft grass. “Um, I appreciate that, but Trav accomplished this on his own.”

“He was determined, and we knew he’d see this one through,” Tif said. “But it caught me off guard how confident he seemed the last time we spoke. I figured being in the same hospital as his dad would be the thread that unravelled the whole thing, you know? That he’d end up going into this new thing with a chip on his shoulder. But that’s not how it turned out, and I think that was because of you, so thank you.”

Sonya nodded, unsure how to respond.

“We were going to head over to say hi,” Tif said. “Want to come?”

“Oh, I…”

“She does,” Emma said, standing.

“She was just on her way,” Cat chimed in.

Tif’s smile bloomed either with blissful naivety or camaraderie, Sonya couldn’t tell. “Great. Come on, then.”

Tif turned, expecting Sonya to follow. When she didn’t, Sonya felt Emma’s hand on her forearm, tugging.

She looked at her friend in askance, but Emma just shrugged. “Moral support isn’t over.”

Sonya’s knees wobbled as she navigated the path to the white tent set up beside the stage. People stood in small groups, posing for family members with cameras. Some had already filled paper cups with punch. Sonya’s stomach did a full back handspring.

She recognized Trav’s broad shoulders immediately. He stood beside a small, well, small compared to him woman with brown skin and greying dark hair. Marielle, Sonya realized.

He’d ditched the black gown, slinging it over his elbow, and the pale blue dress shirt he wore fit him perfectly. In her mind’s eye she could see the outline of his tattoo on the right blade. She could almost feel it beneath her fingers.

She froze in place, her voice refusing to work, and Tif disappeared in a quick flash of purple.

So she did know what she was doing.

Emma hovered a step behind as Sonya stepped up to their circle, intending to quietly announce her presence, but Jack Travis got there first. His booming voice froze her in place. And turned a few heads.

“Don’t I deserve some thanks here?” he said. “This celebration of mediocrity wouldn’t be possible if I hadn’t stepped in to clean up another one of your messes.”

The courage Sonya had summoned to speak to Trav pumped the brakes.What did he just say?

Forty-one

It was a good thing that the rolled up piece of paper Trav had been handed on the stage wasn’t his real diploma. He was holding it so tight that it was most likely permanently crumpled in the middle.

Something deep inside him sighed in resignation. He should’ve known his father couldn’t go one day without being his asshole self, and as much as he’d love to finally have it out with the old man, his heart wasn’t up to it. It wasn’t up to much these days.

Marielle looked past him and Trav could tell by the way she glared at his father that she was about to give her ex-husband an epic cursing out in Spanish. He placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. While he appreciated her sentiment, it would only make his dad stick around longer.

Marielle muttered something under her breath but nodded.

Steeling himself, Trav turned to find his dad standing with Shelly. “Dad. Glad you could—”

“Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” A voice rang out from behind his dad, making Trav’s heart stutter and cutting off his words.

Sonya.

He hadn’t seen her in the crowd when he’d looked out from the stage to see his personal cheering section, and he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to see her until right then.

An indignant Jack stepped to one side to see who would dare speak to him that way, and like a curtain being pulled to the side, Trav caught his first glimpse of Sonya in a pretty yellow sundress, her braids pulled up in a bun on top of her head. If he was wondering if he was still angry with her, the way his breath stopped when he saw her answered that question.

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