Selene's POV
The sun dipped low beyond the windowpanes of our home, casting golden streaks of warmth across the living room floor. I had just returned from a morning shift, my hair tied in a messy bun and my cheeks still flushed from the cool breeze outside. Antonio had picked me up as usual, his hand finding mine the second I stepped into the car like it was instinct. The moment we stepped inside, though, we were greeted by a familiar, bubbly chaos.
"Mira! Amara!" I barely managed a smile before the younger Reyes sisters practically tackled me in a group hug.
"You're finally here," Antonio said, chuckling as he placed the takeaway coffee tray on the counter. "Let them breathe, okay?"
"We missed you, Selene!" Mira chirped, her eyes lighting up. "And we had to come check how you're handling our grumpy brother."
"She's doing better than expected," Amara smirked, winking at me before elbowing her brother dramatically. "Honestly, we thought you'd be too intense for her."
Antonio raised his brows, walking in with that calm, smug smile that I both loved and mock-scowled at. "She's not just handling me," he said smoothly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "She's the reason I'm sane. And FYI, don't scare her away. She's my wife—future wife—but basically my wife. So maybe stop interrogating her like she's auditioning for a role."
Mira and Amara burst out laughing. "Oh please, Mr. Possessive," Amara teased. "We're just doing what good sisters do!"
"Yeah," Mira added, turning to me with a playful look. "You're one of us now, Selene. You can't escape this madness."
"I'm already in too deep," I said, shaking my head with a laugh. "And somehow... I love it."
We all ended up on the plush carpet in the living room, surrounded by coffee cups, snacks, and an abundance of teasing stories from childhood. Mira started recounting Antonio's embarrassing teenage moments, and I watched my strong, composed man bury his face in a cushion in protest. It was one of the most heartwarming scenes I'd ever been a part of.
The house felt so full. Full of laughter, memories, warmth—and a future that didn't just belong to Antonio and me. It belonged to all of us.
Laughter filled the corners of our home as Mira and Eliot reenacted a hilariously dramatic scene from an old movie, while Ayra cheered them on, and Antonio shook his head with an amused grin. The air was light, the joy thick—until Antonio's gaze subtly shifted toward the couch.
Amara sat quietly, almost too still. She hadn't laughed in a while, her eyes distant. She looked small, withdrawn—not like the firecracker we knew.
Antonio leaned over to me and murmured, "She's off. I'm going to check on her."
I nodded, already watching her.
He walked over and knelt beside his sister, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Hey… are you okay?"
She startled a little, then offered a brittle smile. "Yeah, just tired."
Antonio didn't move. "Try again."
Amara's eyes welled suddenly, and her lips trembled. Mira noticed and joined them, kneeling beside Antonio.
"I didn't want to talk about it," Amara whispered, voice breaking.
I stepped closer. "You don't have to. But if you want to, we're here."
She let out a shaky breath and whispered, "Nathaniel Voss."
My heart clenched. Antonio's brows furrowed.
"Who's Nathaniel Voss?" he asked gently, eyes narrowing. "Who is he to you?"
Amara swallowed hard. "He was my boyfriend."
The air changed.
"We were seeing each other for a year. I met him at the dance agency where I've been interning. He's one of the junior coordinators. Charming, kind—at least, I thought so."
Mira placed a hand over her mouth. "Wait… the guy you never introduced to us?"
Amara nodded. "He said we should keep it quiet until we were serious. Until we could talk about marriage. I believed him. I trusted that he meant it."
My heart broke watching her say that.
"But last week, he stopped responding. No goodbye. Nothing. I thought he was busy—until I saw him yesterday in someone's story. Laughing. With another girl. Holding her like he held me." Her voice cracked. "It felt like a slap to my chest."
Antonio clenched his fists. "He ghosted you? After a year?"
She nodded.
"Amara," I said softly, sitting beside her, "he doesn't deserve the love you gave him. And you deserve so much more than someone who keeps you hidden."
Mira wiped her sister's tears. "You're brilliant, bold, and breathtaking. Anyone would be lucky to love you."
Antonio gently lifted her chin. "Nathaniel Voss has no idea what he threw away. But we do. You're my sister, and I'll never let you forget your worth again."
Her tears flowed silently now, but her shoulders softened, her breathing steadied.
"Thanks," she whispered. "I kept thinking I was stupid. But I really loved him… and I didn't want to believe it was just me in it."
"It wasn't stupidity," I said. "It was hope. And it's not wrong to hope for love."
Antonio exhaled, drawing her into a protective hug. "You'll rise from this. And when you do… you'll dance like no heartbreak ever touched your soul."
Her eyes glimmered. The pain hadn't vanished—but she was surrounded now. By truth, love, and family.
And even in the silence, that was louder than all the lies Nathaniel Voss ever told