Lucas assisted Hope out of the car as the Madden estate glistened in the twilight, the well-kept hedges creating long shadows across the driveway. She had a nervous smile on her lips, her curls pinned loosely, and she was wearing a soft cream dress that danced in the breeze.
She smoothed the invisible wrinkles from her skirt and asked, "Are you sure they'll like me?"
Leaning in, Lucas smoothed out a flyaway hair behind her ear. "They will adore you," he declared with a certain assurance. "Just be who you are."
Inside, golden lighting filled the dining hall. The walls were adorned with elaborate portraits of ancestors, and the air was filled with the aroma of roasted lamb and aged wine. As they entered, Hope kept her head up and gave Lucas's arm a gentle pat to reassure him.
"Lucas!" Eleanor Madden, his mother, gave him a cordial greeting. She turned to embrace him, her silver earrings glistening. "You must be Hope, too."
Despite Hope's courteous hand gesture, Eleanor drew her into an embrace. "So much has been said about you."
With a glass of brandy in hand, Richard, Lucas's father, nodded approvingly from the other end of the table. "This time, you've brought someone special."
Despite her flushed cheeks, Hope was able to maintain a calm smile. "I appreciate you having me."
As dinner progressed, it was easy to laugh. Hope answered questions about her background, her job, and even her feelings about Lucas's stiff childhood tales with thoughtfulness and quiet confidence. By praising Eleanor's art collection, asking Richard about his French vineyards, and even making fun of Lucas when he became defensive about his cooking abilities, she won them over without even trying.
Eleanor kept a close eye on her son, observing the softness in his eyes, the way Lucas leaned in when Hope spoke, and the way he smiled more. It was a lighter, less burdened version of her son, whom she hadn't seen in years.
As the conversation waned after dessert, Eleanor whispered to her husband, "She fits," and reached for another glass of wine.
Richard gave a nod. "Much superior to the previous one."
Lucas heard the remark but remained silent. His eyes had fallen on Hope, who was giggling over a comment made by his mother regarding Lucas's adolescent comic book addiction.
During family dinners, Lorna had never laughed so hard. She had always appeared to be... preoccupied. Guarded. Uncertain of whether she actually belonged in their world, she seemed to be holding back a piece of herself. Perhaps she hadn't, to be fair. Not at all.
Hope, though? She became at home as if she had always been there.
The stars were twinkling when Lucas led Hope out into the garden after the meal.
"You were incredible," he whispered.
Hope gave a playful shrug. "They made things simple."
Lucas halted his stride. "I really do mean it. I caught a glimpse of something I've always desired tonight. Calm. Family. Perhaps something more as well.
Hope gave him a gentle smile as she looked up. "Lucas, you deserve peace."
With his eyes searching hers, he placed a hand behind her waist. "And I believe I've at last discovered my place."
Neither of them realized Eleanor was watching from the balcony above, a silent smile on her lips as he kissed her in the moonlight.
Her son appeared happy for once.