The morning after, the hotel room felt heavy with the lingering effects of last night. My head throbbed, but it was the twins’ silent concern that weighed on me the most. Nathan sat near the window, his arms crossed, his usual calm demeanor masking the tension in his eyes. Tristan, leaning against the wall, was less subtle—his gaze fixed on me with that rare look of worry that he hardly ever let show.

“You should’ve called us,” Nathan said quietly, breaking the silence, his tone controlled but firm.

I winced at the reminder. “I didn’t think I’d need to. It was just a few drinks with Sara.”

“A few drinks...