I looked at Mrs. Donnelly, who gave me a sharp, approving nod. I looked at Earl, who was holding up a paper plate with a giant piece of leaning cake, grinning from ear to ear. I looked at the six people who had actually cared enough to walk through the door and celebrate my happiness.

“Mom,” I said softly into the receiver. “Trevor is busy right now.”

“Busy?!” my mother shrieked. “With what?!”

“He’s holding my hand,” I said. “And in a few minutes, we’re going to eat our lopsided cake with the people who actually care about us. Trevor’s crew will inspect his property on Monday morning during normal business hours. If Victor wants to discuss the drainage agreement before then, he can file a request with Trevor’s lawyer.”

“Audrey, wait—!”

I pressed the red button on the screen, ending the call. Before my mother could dial back, I flipped the phone onto silent, turned it upside down, and slid it into my purse. Trevor took his phone and did the exact same thing. Across the table, Earl and the rest of the guests followed suit, turning off their devices until the room was completely silent again.

The rattle of the old air conditioner filled the space. The gray water outside rocked the fishing boats gently against the wooden piers.

Trevor reached over, grabbed the cake knife, and wrapped his larger, oil-stained hand over mine. He looked down at me, a soft, genuine smile breaking across his face.

“Ready, Mrs. Vance?” he asked quietly.

“More than ready,” I replied.

We sliced down through the vanilla frosting together, cutting the first piece of cake. The thirty-seven white chairs remained empty, facing the water in neat, quiet rows. But for the first time all day, I didn’t see sadness when I looked at them. I only saw space—clean, open space where the noise of a selfish family used to be, finally cleared out to make room for a real life.