**Part 3**

Saturday arrived colder than the forecast had promised.

Dale and Renee’s backyard was already full when we got there—folding tables, a grill that smoked more than it cooked, and half the people Matthew had known since high school. Nora walked in beside me wearing my jacket again, not because we’d planned it, but because she’d left hers in the car and the wind off the lake was sharp. Matthew had insisted on driving. He kept glancing at us in the rearview mirror like he was waiting for one of us to bolt.

We didn’t.

Elaine was there. I saw her the moment we stepped through the gate. She was standing near the cooler with a paper cup in her hand, talking to Renee. Her eyes found me, then Nora, then the jacket. She didn’t come over. She just watched for a second longer than necessary and turned back to the conversation.

Nora noticed. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I looked at her. “You?”

“Ask me again after I survive potato salad interrogation.”

I almost laughed. “Still team mustard?”

“Always.”

Matthew clapped me on the shoulder as he pᴀssed. “Try not to start a war before the burgers are done.”

We found a spot near the edge of the yard where the noise was a little lower. Nora tucked her hands into the sleeves of my jacket and leaned against the fence. For a few minutes we just watched the party move around us—kids running between tables, Dale arguing with the grill, Matthew telling the same story he’d told at Rudy’s but with bigger hand gestures.

“Matthew’s been different,” Nora said quietly. “Since the divorce. He smiles more when you’re around. I didn’t realize how much until this week.”

“He’s been trying to get me out of the apartment for a year. Guess he finally found a reason that worked.”

She glanced at me. “Is that what I am? A reason?”

“You’re the person who put her arm through mine when I couldn’t find the words to leave,” I said. “And then stayed long enough to make sure I was actually okay. That’s more than a reason.”

Nora was quiet. The wind moved a strand of hair across her face. She didn’t brush it away.

“I leave for Chicago in three weeks,” she said.

“I know.”

“That’s not very long.”

“No.” I turned toward her. “But it’s longer than four days. And I’m not great at long distances, but I’m worse at pretending I don’t want to try.”

She studied me for a moment, then reached over and took my hand. Her fingers were cold again. I closed mine around them.

“Saturday plans,” she said. “No disappearing early.”

“I remember.”

From across the yard, Matthew caught sight of us. He lifted his beer in a small, quiet toast and went back to his story. Elaine was still by the cooler. She looked over once more, then looked away.

Nora squeezed my hand. “We should probably go get food before Matthew starts telling people we’re engaged.”

“Probably.”

Neither of us moved right away. The grill hissed. Someone laughed too loud near the tables. Nora’s thumb moved once across the back of my hand, slow and certain.

“Wes?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time I speak for you,” she said, “I’ll ask first.”

I smiled. “Deal.”

We stayed like that a little longer, jackets and cold hands and the low sound of a backyard party around us, before we finally pushed off the fence and walked toward the food together. Matthew was already saving us seats.