Reporters line the red carpet leading from the Daylight Holdings corporate limousine to the front of the ball room inside the Beekman Hotel. I step out of the car, holding onto Holden for balance, as camera flashes blink around me like glittering diamonds.

My hand moves to my swollen belly, the baby inside already famous thanks to a media frenzy. Since the moment our engagement was announced, Holden and I are magnets for the paparazzi. First, the story of our unlikely relationship made headlines, followed by full coverage of our extravagant wedding almost a year later. Now, baby Rachel—named after Mrs. Kratky, the teacher killed by my father—is enjoying her time in the spotlight as we make our way down the runway.

“This is too much,” I whisper to Holden.

His grin is infectious. “It’s not every day my wife’s book makes the New York Times bestseller list.”

My throat goes raw with pride. Soon after Holden and I announced our engagement, I began the process of finding an agent and publisher for my memoir. Both came easily, and the book hit the shelves, already coveting the number #1 spot on every bestseller list in the country.

This party—planned entirely by Holden—is in celebration of that milestone.

But of course, it’s in honor of so much more than that.

Inside the hotel, we’re met by Mason and Olivia, and Lucas and Eden. Olivia hands me a flute of sparkling apple juice while Mason serves everyone else champagne. Holden lifts his glass. “To my wife,” he says.

There is a murmur of agreement, and then we drink to the toast, while my nerves buzz with restless energy. Behind the door, hundreds of people wait for me to make an entrance. To demonstrate that yes, the past can be left behind. Forgiveness is an option. And that family doesn’t always mean the people you’re related to by blood.

My eyes drift across the smiling faces of my new family. Olivia and Eden have become like sisters, their advice invaluable, not to mention their fashion sense. My wardrobe has undergone almost as much a transformation as I have.

The door opens and a young man runs out. Lindsay’s fiancé, the one that made her finally stop looking for new challenges. My eyes water with tears.

Lindsay spots me and squeals. Her dress is short, and her cleavage plunges almost to her belly button, but there’s something different about her—maybe it’s happiness that makes her eyes glisten and her cheeks blush.

She hugs me, smooshing her toned abs against my baby bump. “Your glow intensified every time I see you.” She kisses each of my cheeks and places her hands on the side of my face. “You’re happy, right?”

I nod. “Deliriously.” I nudge my chin toward her guy, who stands awkward in the corner, trying to act nonchalant despite the fact that Holden and his partners are staring at him. “And I see you’re firmly a one-man kind of girl nowadays?”

She shrugs. “I’ll never wonder if there’s someone better out there. I tried most of them, and he’s the best.”

My response is cut off by another entrance, this time from outside. I spot my mother before she sees me, and my heart fills with sharp emotion. It’s been a few months since we’ve spoken, my engagement and wedding to New York’s most eligible bachelor and a victim of my father’s killing spree becoming a wedge between us that seemed impossible to move.

But she’s here, in this hotel, looking small and lost and my breath catches with sharp yearning.

Holden takes my champagne flute and whispers, “Go to her.”

My eyes shimmer. “You asked her to come, didn’t you?”

Mom didn’t make it to our wedding, and she didn’t respond to my letter about the baby, but when our eyes meet across the hotel lobby, it’s clear she’s overwhelmed by how much she’s missed out on.

We walk toward each other, me trying not to fall in heels, her stumbling to move faster without causing a scene. She wraps her arms around my neck and I start to cry. It doesn’t matter that my make-up will smudge, or that my eyes will be lined in red. My mother is here, and suddenly, everything feels right in the world.

She pulls back and stares into my face. “You’re beautiful,” she says.

“I’ve missed you.”

Her eyes mist over. “Oh sweetheart, I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry that I acted so ridiculously. It’s just…”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to explain, Mom. I know.”

We each had to deal with the past in our own way. Holden made me want to stop running, but for my mother, she wasn’t ready to face what my father had done. My book brought back the memories she was trying to avoid.

“I hope you can forgive me for writing our story and making it all public.”

She wipes her eye with a manicured fingertip. “I’m the one that should ask for forgiveness. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most.”

Holden interrupts by clearing his throat. “Apologies, ladies, but the guest of honor is expected to give a speech right now, and the crowd is getting restless.”

My mom hugs him—and they whisper to each other words I can’t hear. What they’re saying doesn’t matter though. It’s the sentiment that counts.

I glance around the room, and take a deep, calming breath. I am surrounded by people who love me and accept me. Family who does not judge me for who my father was, but instead, by the woman I have become—in spite of the past.

In spite of him.

Holden links his arm through mine, and together, we walk through the doors, closely followed by my family. Eden whispers encouragement as I break from the group and make my way to the stage.

I feel the weight of a hundred eyes on me.

In the past, this would have made me nervous, wondering if they’d somehow recognize me, and tell the world who I am. Now, this crowd is a symbol of how far I have come.

I lean into the microphone. “Good evening,” I say.

There is a chorus of murmured responses, a smattering of applause. I take a deep breath and smile. “Thank you for coming. And for reading my book. I’d like to share with you a little bit more of my story…It’s a story of trust. Of acceptance. And it’s a story of love…”

My eyes scan the crowd until I find the familiar faces. Eden and Olivia, sending me silent encouragement. Lucas and Mason, their smiles showing nothing but support. I hover a bit longer on my mom, who beams with pride, tears falling down her face.

And then, my eyes find Holden’s.

My stomach flutters.

“I’d like to tell you a love story,” I say.