Page 87 of Paradise in Progress
“Girlfriend,” Tristan corrects and my cheeks heat. I’ll never tire of hearing him claim me, especially in front of his father.
The sounds of silverware clinking against plates are the only sounds in the room as the food platters are passed around. It’s not an awkward silence, but a relaxed one, as if this is just a normal day. I guess to them, it is.
A few moments pass when Mr. Nelson clears his throat. “Are the villas completed at Paradise? What’s the update?”
“Dennis,” Krista chastises beneath her breath. “I thought we promised to keep business away from the table.”
He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his stare in our direction. My heartbeat picks up as the air starts to feel heavy. These damn villas are going to haunt me forever.
Wiping the corners of my mouth with the fabric napkin, I turn my attention to him. Tristan’s hand lands on my thigh in a reassuring touch. “The villas should be completed this coming week.”
A hum comes from the head of the table as my only reassurance that he heard me.
“Kennedy and I fly back down tomorrow morning for the final walk-through,” Tristan is quick to add.
“These villas seem to be more trouble than they’re worth,” Mr. Nelson grumbles.
“They have been a pain, but the reward will be worth it.” I smile sheepishly at my boss.
“I agree with Kennedy,” Xander chimes in, setting his fork on his plate. “There’s a lot of hype around them, with reservations booked through the year starting at the end of the month.”
“Please, no more work talk. Today is about getting to know Kennedy.” Krista sips from her wineglass as she stares down her husband. As intimidated as I am by my boss, it seems he’s just as intimidated by his wife.
The conversation moves away from work as Victoria, Xander, and Tristan all razz on each other. As I’m about to take the last bite of mashed potatoes, Krista’s voice has me pausing with my fork in the air.
“It wasn’t that long ago when the kids were giving Tristan hell about a pretty girl in the office who was giving him a run for his money.” She pauses, her eyes filling with moisture. “I begged them to tell me all about this girl, because I already knew she was special. Especially if she was bringing out the boy he used to be.”
Tristan shifts in his chair uncomfortably, and it’s my turn to place a reassuring hand on his thigh. He uses his opposite hand to weave our fingers together, giving them a quick squeeze.
“Tristan’s road hasn’t always been easy, and along the way, we lost a bit of him, but since the two of you have been together, I’ve seen the old Tristan again. The one that jokes, laughs, and walks through life for himself. We have you to thank for that, Kennedy.”
It’s my turn for tears to well in my eyes. I cast a glance at Tristan, who leans in and kisses my forehead.
“All that to say,” Krista pauses, picking up her glass and everyone follows suit, “welcome to the family, Kennedy.”
Cheers ring out around the table, and the warmth that surrounds me has me feeling complete.
We no longer stand on opposite sides of a blueprint, sketching rough straps from varying ideas as we try to outdo the other. Our paradise in progress is now complete.
In the wake is a solid skyscraper, built brick by brick from each moment we’ve shared—good, bad, and ugly. Our past supported our future, and together we’ll walk solid and unwavering.
Epilogue
Four Years Later
It’s funny how oneplace can hold so many memories. St. Lucia isn’t just an island anymore—it’s part of our history, woven into every major change in our lives.
Almost four years ago, this island was just another dot on the map. A location for a project with a hard-to-hit deadline, long hours, and more than a little tension between me and Kennedy. Now it’s a living scrapbook holding every milestone, every turning point, and every new chapter of my life.
The private jet jolts as turbulence shakes us mid-descent, and I glance out the window to see the island’s familiar coastline coming into view. Turquoise waters glisten in the sunlight as a wave of nostalgia hits me. Years later, this sight still affects me the same way with a mix of excitement and curiosity for what’s to come. But the subtle dip of the plane drags my focus from the ocean back to the woman sitting beside me.
My wife’s fingers are white-knuckling the armrest as if that’s the only thing holding us in the air. Her face is calm, but her body betrays her.
“Still?” I tease, keeping my voice low as I fight the grin desperate to break free. “After all this time, I thought you’d be used to flying.”
Her eyes dart to me, narrowing slightly, though her lips twitch like she wants to smile. “Oh, shut up,” she murmurs, nodding toward my lap, where something—someone—sleeps soundly, completely unaware of the world around her. “This time, it’s different. Now I have more to lose.”
I let her words hang in the air for a moment, the weight of them sinking in as I look down at the tiny form curled up in my lap. My heart skips a beat.
