Chapter 45

The laughter was still echoing through the room when Simone suddenly sat upright, clapping her hands like a drill sergeant.

“Alright! Enough smooching and scandal,” she announced. “Girls’ night is back on track. Popcorn, wine, bad karaoke, and way too much gossip. Everybody move!”

Rowan, still perched in Celeste’s lap, tilted her head and smirked. “You sure you want us in on your girls’ night? Seems like we already stole the spotlight.”

“Stole the spotlight?” Lila sputtered from under her blanket. She dropped it finally and glared. “You burned the stage down, Rowan. We’re still trying to recover.”

Naomi raised her glass lazily. “To surviving the apocalypse,” she said dryly. “May our hearing someday return.”

Celeste groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

Simone grinned like the cat who caught the canary. “Never. This is going down in girls’ night history. Ten years from now, I’ll still be reminding you of the time Rowan nearly knocked the chandelier loose.”

Rowan laughed, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Celeste’s temple. “I’ll take the blame,” she said smoothly. “Besides, if they’re going to tease us, might as well give them something to talk about.”

“Oh, don’t encourage her,” Celeste muttered, but her lips curved upward anyway.

“Okay, okay,” Simone said, standing and clapping again. “Game time. Truth or dare. Because if I don’t get details straight from the source, I’m going to explode.”

Lila groaned, throwing a cushion at her. “Simone, you’re the nosiest person alive.”

“And proud,” Simone shot back. “Rowan, you first. Truth or dare?”

Rowan arched a brow, her lips quirking. “Truth.”

Simone leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “On a scale of one to ten, how good is Celeste in bed?”

The entire room went silent.

Celeste’s eyes flew wide. “Simone!” she barked, her cheeks flaming red.

Rowan smirked like a cat with cream. She leaned back comfortably, arms folded. “Eleven,” she answered without hesitation.

Naomi actually choked on her wine. Lila groaned again and pulled the blanket back over her head. Simone squealed like a teenager at a boyband concert.

Celeste buried her face against Rowan’s shoulder, wishing she could melt into the floor. “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“And you love it,” Rowan teased, dropping a kiss on her hair.

“Okay,” Naomi said finally, setting her glass down and shaking her head. “If we’re really doing this, I’m going to need stronger alcohol.”

Simone leapt up. “Already ahead of you!” She darted to the kitchen and returned with another bottle.

Rowan grinned at Celeste, eyes twinkling. “Looks like we’re in for a long night.”

Celeste sighed, resigned but secretly amused, her lips tugging into the faintest smile. “You have no idea.”

The laughter carried on, glasses clinking and voices overlapping as Simone kept the energy going. Rowan was practically glowing, her arm draped casually across the back of the couch behind Celeste, her presence magnetic and hard to ignore.

But not everyone was laughing.

Celeste’s eyes flicked over just in time to catch the look on Lila’s face the tightness in her jaw, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She sat quieter than usual, her wine glass swirling slowly in her hand as she watched Rowan with something that wasn’t quite annoyance, but wasn’t exactly joy either.

No one else seemed to notice, but Celeste did. She always noticed.

Rowan leaned in close, whispering something low in Celeste’s ear that made her laugh despite herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Lila stiffen, her fingers gripping the stem of her glass just a little too hard.

Celeste’s stomach twisted.

She didn’t say anything not with the others around, not while Simone was bouncing off the walls and Naomi was making sarcastic one-liners that had everyone doubled over. But in her head, the thought stuck like a pin: I’ll talk to her later. When it’s just us.

For now, Celeste forced her own smile, leaning back into the couch as Rowan teased Simone about being too nosy. But beneath the warmth of Rowan’s arm and the chaos of the room, her mind was already half a step ahead, quietly bracing for the conversation she knew she’d have to have with Lila sooner or later.

The living room pulsed with energy as the bottles emptied one by one. Music thumped low from the speaker, not too loud to drown conversation but just enough to keep the mood alive. Candles flickered on the coffee table, competing with the half-finished glasses of wine and scattered shot glasses.

Simone was already draped over the arm of the couch, her cheeks flushed, giggling uncontrollably at her own joke about Rowan “ruining the acoustics” with how loud she’d been earlier. Rowan, still looking smug as hell, just leaned into Celeste and muttered, “She’s not wrong.” Celeste smacked her lightly on the leg, trying to hide her grin.

Naomi, calm but obviously tipsy, sat cross-legged on the rug with her glass in hand, nodding like she was some kind of zen master presiding over the chaos. “You’re all amateurs,” she teased, sipping slowly, her composure too perfect.

Meanwhile, Lila had gone from sipping carefully to pouring herself shot after shot, her laugh just a touch too sharp, her movements a little too loose. Celeste’s eyes tracked her more than once the jealousy from earlier hadn’t disappeared. If anything, the alcohol was stripping down the mask.

Rowan noticed none of it, or maybe she didn’t care. She was in full playful mode, daring Simone into another round of shots, then turning to Celeste with a lazy grin. “What about you, superstar? You gonna keep up, or am I drinking all of this myself?”

Celeste shook her head, sliding Rowan’s glass away with a smirk. “You’re already trouble sober. I don’t need to see you drunk and reckless.”

Rowan pouted dramatically. “But I’m fun drunk.”

“You’re loud drunk,” Simone cut in, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her wine. “And I don’t think Celeste’s neighbors are ready for round two.”

That set off another wave of laughter. Rowan leaned into Celeste, whispering something about how she could definitely prove them wrong later, her breath warm against her ear. Celeste’s cheeks heated, but she kept her cool, shooting Rowan a look that said not here.

As the night stretched on, the banter only grew sloppier, the jokes bolder, and the confessions spilling easier than the drinks. Somewhere between Naomi trying to teach Simone how to meditate while drunk and Lila suddenly deciding to challenge Rowan to a drinking contest, Celeste realized there was no way this night was ending quietly.

Still, even with the noise, even with the tension humming low in her chest from Lila’s sideways glances, Celeste felt something she hadn’t in a long time: she felt light.

“I’m going to get more snacks,” Lila announced suddenly, standing from the couch. Her voice was just a little too sharp, a little too forced. “Anyone want anything?”

Simone, already giggling on her third glass of wine, shouted, “Chips! And chocolate if you got it!”
Naomi waved her off with a calm, “Water would be nice.”

“I’ll help,” Celeste said, standing up without thinking. She ignored Rowan’s teasing smirk and followed Lila down the hall toward the kitchen.

The second they were away from the others, Celeste reached out, catching Lila’s wrist. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Celeste.” Lila’s tone was quick, defensive.

Celeste frowned, stepping closer, her brows pulling together. “Don’t lie to me. I know you better than I know myself, and I can tell something is off. So just tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Lila’s eyes flicked away, her voice low.

“It matters to me,” Celeste said firmly. She shifted her grip from Lila’s wrist to her hand the same way she always had — the same comfort she’d offered a thousand times before. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

But Lila jerked slightly, shaking her head. “Don’t do that.”

Celeste blinked. “Do what?”

“Be all sweet and shit.” Lila’s voice cracked, her usual sharp edges breaking apart.

Confused, Celeste tilted her head. “What do you mean? Touch you?”

“No.” Lila swallowed hard. “I mean don’t act like you don’t know how much it kills me sometimes.”

Celeste’s voice softened. “What does?”

Lila took a shaky breath. “Watching you and Rowan.”

Celeste froze. “What about me and Rowan?”

Lila’s eyes met hers, full of tears she refused to let fall. “I wish I had what you two have. I’m jealous, okay?” The words tumbled out like they’d been waiting for months. “The way she looks at you, the way you laugh with her—how easy it all is. You love her, and she loves you. It’s beautiful. And I hate that I’m jealous of it.”

Celeste’s chest tightened. She wasn’t expecting that. “Lila…” she whispered.

Lila laughed bitterly, brushing at her eyes. “Don’t ‘Lila’ me. I know it’s not your fault. I just—I see you two, and I wish I had that. Someone to look at me like that. To… make me feel that wanted.”

Celeste stepped forward carefully. “You will. You’re amazing, Lila. You deserve that kind of love.”

Lila’s voice cracked. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t feel that way lately.”

Celeste wanted to comfort her, to hug her, to take away that ache — but something told her not to cross that line. She reached out and squeezed Lila’s hand instead. “You’re going to find it. Probably when you stop trying so hard to be strong all the time.”

Lila laughed weakly, shaking her head. “Maybe. But for now… can I just say it sucks watching someone else live the kind of love you’ve always wanted?”

Celeste nodded slowly, her voice quiet but full of understanding. “Yeah. It does.”

The silence between them was heavy but honest — the kind of silence that finally brought peace instead of tension.

After a long pause, Lila sniffed, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and muttered, “Alright, before I start crying again, let’s grab these damn snacks before Simone starts yelling.”

Celeste smiled faintly. “Deal.”

They gathered the bowls and bags of chips and made their way back down the hall.

As soon as they stepped into the living room, Rowan’s eyes went straight to Celeste. Simone noticed too, narrowing her gaze. “What’s wrong with you?”

Celeste’s throat tightened. She dropped the snacks onto the table. “Ask Lila.”

Everyone’s eyes swung toward her. Lila froze in place, clutching the chip bag like it was an anchor.

“Nothing,” Lila said quickly, her voice too sharp, too brittle.

“Don’t lie.” Celeste’s voice was hoarse. She looked at her, then at the others. “Just tell them.”

The room went silent. Rowan shifted in her seat, her expression darkening. Simone leaned forward, eyes wide. Naomi raised a brow.

When Lila didn’t answer, Celeste’s voice cracked the silence. “Lila just told me she wishes she had what me and Rowan have.”

The words landed heavy but not cruel — just true.

The air shifted—relief mixed with discomfort. Rowan sat back slowly, understanding dawning. Simone blinked. Naomi hummed softly, sipping her drink.

Lila’s face burned. “I didn’t mean for it to sound weird—”

“It’s not weird,” Rowan cut in gently. “It’s honest.”

Lila nodded slowly, her voice small. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

The tension broke a little when Simone muttered, “Girl, join the club. I wish I had it too.” Everyone laughed, but the ache lingered beneath it—bittersweet and real.

Celeste met Lila’s gaze across the room, her expression soft but steady. “We’re okay,” she said quietly, and for the first time all night, she meant it.