We make our way through the rest of the house, stopping to chat with a few more people, before we open the back door and step out into the stunning backyard.
This is the main location of tonight's party. On a September evening it's still on the warmer side, but not hot enough that it's uncomfortable. On one side there is a bar area set up, complete with a bartender decked out in a vest and bowtie, along with several wine and liquor options. Partygoers mingle around the nearby high tops with their drinks. On the other side of the massive yard, the Turners' party planner has arranged a few sofas and loveseats for comfortable seating. Both sides of the yard are filled with happy, laughing guests.
In the middle of the yard is the dance floor, where a few children are already twirling in circles. And if I know anything about a Turner family party, that dance floor will be filled with many drunk and boisterous guests before the night is over.
Along the perimeter of the property and stretching overhead, beautiful string lights twinkle and envelop the party in a soft glow. Between the physical ambiance of the setting and the sounds of children's giggles floating through the air, it's a beautiful and wonderfully welcoming party. My heart aches at the feel of it.
"Oh, there you two are, I've been looking all over for you. It's about time you made it here!"
Jax and I turn to see his parents walking toward us with big smiles. His mother, a beautiful fifty-year-old woman that is more elegant now than ever before, pulls me into a tight hug. She looks stunning in a simple white dress. When she pulls back, she keeps hold of my hands and smiles down at my outfit.
"Darling, you look spectacular! That dress looks like it was made for you." She tugs me closer to whisper conspiratorially, "Don't let Grandma Birdie see you. We only recently started to make progress with convincing her that you two are just friends."
Mr. Turner winks and pulls me in for a hug of his own. "If I'm being honest, I'm on Grandma Birdie's side. I have no idea what could possess my son to think there is someone better than you out there."
"Dad,come on," Jax groans. "You would think after a decade we'd be over this joke already. I am this close to never bringing Remy to the house again."
His mom gasps and grabs my arm. "You'll do no such thing. Remy is as much a part of the family as you are."
I smile my first real smile of the night. I am loved and taken care of by people that aren't even my blood family, and for a moment I remind myself that if this is the kind of love I receive in my life, I should be grateful.
I cover Mrs. Turner’s hand with my own. "You look wonderful, by the way. I can't believe you've been married for twenty-five years. Every time I look at you, I think you should have a toddler running around, not a grown son that acts like one." She blushes and swats away my compliment with a smile at the same time that I hear Jax huff in outrage.
I smile at them—my second parents, whom I love as much as my own. "So, what's the secret? How did you get to twenty-five years and still look at each other like teenagers in love?"
At that, Mrs. Turner finally lets me go. She floats over to her husband to press a kiss to his weathered cheek. He smiles at her with the same tenderness I see him give her every day of their lives.
"I think the secret is finding the right person," she answers without taking her eyes off her husband. "I think if you wait for the person who makes you so happy that you can't stand to be without them for even a minute, who you love so much that it makes any problem thrown your way worth fighting through—then everything else fades in comparison. Everything else will work itself out because you've found the other half of your soul and nothing else matters. You've already achieved the main purpose of life."
I turn away to blink the tears from my eyes before anyone can notice. Mrs. Turner’s words pierce a knife through my already aching heart. They remind me of the person that it physically hurts me to be without.
Because what if you find your other half and they don't want you back?
I don't voice my question out loud. Instead, I smile again at the love-struck couple and shove my pain to the back of my mind.
"I hope you put that in your speech tonight," I tell her honestly. "Because that almost just made me cry."
I feel Jax grab my pinky again as Mrs. Turner titters over my compliment. I squeeze him back in a silent thank you for his wordless support, once again reminded of the amount of love that I'm surrounded by.
I look between Jax's parents. "I think I'd like to get a drink, if you don't mind my sneaking away for a minute."
"Oh, honey, of course. That's what it's there for. Enjoy yourself." Mrs. Turner waves a hand at the bar before turning to Jax and launching into an animated conversation about a friend's daughter that she wants to set him up with.
I make my way over to the bar while trying to keep from making eye contact with too many people. I inevitably get stopped by an aunt along the way, but eventually I find myself in front of the bartender.
"Can I have a glass of red, please? Whatever the current Turner favorite is." I smile at the eager young bartender and leave some cash in his tip jar. Before long I'm sipping a delicious red wine that I forgot to ask the name of and turning back to the party. In the past fifteen minutes the entire backyard has filled with people, laughing with each other and drifting toward the dance floor. The sounds of happy partygoers almost drown out the 80's hits that the DJ is currently playing through the speakers. I smile and look around the yard.
And freeze when I notice a face on the other side of it.
My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach when I recognize the blue eyes and tousled brown hair. It looks like he’d already noticed me because he stands rooted to the spot as he studies me with a thoughtful expression. He's wearing a black suit and white button-up shirt, looking absolutely sinful with the buttons around his neck undone. He's got one hand in his pants pocket and is holding a glass of clear liquor in the other. His piercing gaze never leaves my face.
Before I can decide if I want to ignore him or run from him, the music cuts out.
"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the 25th anniversary celebration of Mr. and Mrs. Turner! How's everyone doing?"
A cheer goes up in the crowd. There's probably close to a hundred people at this party, with more now streaming into the backyard. People continue to pass in front of me as they fill the space around me, occasionally blocking my view of the man across the yard. But regardless of the jostling and blocked views, we never look away from each other.
It vaguely registers in the back of my mind that the DJ is talking, still working the crowd into a frenzy. None of it registers because I can't seem to take a deep enough breath into my lungs.