Damon’s POV

The neighborhood barbecue was louder than I expected.

Kids running around with water guns.

Music playing from three different speakers because apparently one wasn’t enough.

People shouting over each other, laughing, grilling, waving plates in the air.

Aria loved it instantly.

She held my hand tightly when we arrived, practically glowing. “This is perfect, Damon. We needed this.”

She was right. After everything we’d survived, a normal weekend felt like a ...