The four of them sat around the dining table.
Elara had set it without thinking about it—plates at four places, cutlery squared, serving dishes arranged through the centre. The goat leg rested on a board beside bowls of roasted potatoes, pumpkin and carrots. Bryce and Vael had brought the animal back together two days earlier, and the smell of rosemary and garlic still lingered beneath the warmth of the meat.
Saige sat across from Bryce, her fingers wrapped around a glass of water she had not drunk from. She was watching the three of them the way she watched a horse she did not quite trust—alert, reading posture, waiting for the flinch.
Vael sat beside her.
Elara reached for the carving knife.
“So,” Saige said. “This feels like a meeting.”
Bryce exhaled through his nose, not quite a laugh. “It’s dinner.”
“It’s dinner that got called specifically so we could talk about you two getting married.” Saige’s voice was steady, but her knuckles were white around the glass. “So talk.”
Elara rested the knife against the board.
Saige looked between them. “How serious are you?”
Bryce leaned forward, his forearms on the table. The wood creaked beneath his weight.
“We talked about what it might look like. We’re not there yet.”
“But you want to be.”
He did not look away from her. “Yeah. I think about it,” he said. “More than I expected to.”
Saige’s jaw tightened. She looked down at her glass, then back up.
“So it’s serious.”
Elara watched her daughter’s face—the way Saige was holding herself together, the slight tremor in her lower lip she had carried since childhood whenever she was trying not to cry.
“Saige,” Elara said quietly, “we wanted to talk to you before we made any decisions.”
“I know. You said that.” Saige set the glass down and pressed her palms flat against the table. “I’m trying to work out what that actually means.”
Vael tilted his head.
“You are asking whether they want to know how you feel,” he said, “or whether they have already chosen and are only telling you afterwards.”
The table went still.
Saige stared at him. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
Elara felt the words land in her chest. She had meant what she said, but Vael had named the fear underneath it more clearly than she had.
“We haven’t chosen,” Elara said. “That’s why we’re sitting here.”
Some of the tension eased from Saige’s shoulders.
“Okay,” she said. “Then talk.”
Elara looked at Bryce. He met her eyes, and she saw the same question in his.
Where do we start?
“I don’t know if there’s a right way to do this,” she admitted. “I’ve never done it before. Not like this.”
“Neither have I,” Bryce said. “But I know what I want.”
“Which is?”
Bryce held Saige’s gaze.
“I want to build something that lasts. With your mother. With this place.” He paused. “I want to wake up in the same house every morning and know she’s there. I want a family that actually stays.”
Saige swallowed.
“And me?”
“You’re already family.” He said it simply, as though there could be no argument. “That doesn’t change if I marry your mother. It doesn’t change if I don’t. You don’t stop being part of this because the shape of it shifts.”
She blinked several times.
“You sound like you’ve thought about this.”
“I’ve had time.”
“Since when?”
Bryce was quiet for a moment.
“Since I realised I didn’t want to go back to my cabin.”
The words settled somewhere deep inside Elara. He had not said it to her like that before. Not plainly. Not where anyone else could hear.
Saige looked between them, and something in her expression shifted. Not acceptance, but perhaps the beginning of it.
“You keep saying you haven’t made any decisions,” Saige said. “I’m trying to work out what you’re actually planning.”
“What do you want to know?” Elara asked.
“What else have you discussed?”
“The properties,” Elara replied.
“What happens to them? You’ve got one each.”
“We’ve talked about combining them,” Bryce said.
“Why?”
“Run everything as one,” Bryce said. “Make it easier to manage. One set of books. One lot of finances. One name.”
“Obsidian Ranch,” Elara added.
Saige’s eyebrows lifted. “Obsidian?”
“Black stone,” Vael said. “Formed when molten rock cools.”
Saige looked at him. “You know what obsidian is?”
“I learn.”
She almost smiled.
“Right. Of course you do.”
Elara picked up the carving knife again and cut into the goat. Steam rose from the meat.
“It’s only an idea,” she said. “We haven’t worked out what combining them would actually mean.”
“It wouldn’t mean getting rid of either property,” Bryce said. “The house stays. The cabin stays. The workshop stays where it is. We’d be joining what we already have, not choosing one and abandoning the other.”
Saige watched Elara place a slice of meat onto her plate.
“And this would still be home?”
“Yes,” Elara said.
“Even when I move out?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t live here all my life.”
“It will still be your home.”
Saige looked down at her plate.
Elara served Bryce, then Vael, buying her daughter time before she continued.
“What about your name?” Saige asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You’d become Elara Black?”
“Maybe. Or I might keep Stone. Or use one name for the horse work and another everywhere else.”
“That sounds complicated.”
“Life’s complicated,” Bryce said.
Saige gave him a flat look. “You’re really selling marriage as a good idea.”
His mouth curved. “I’m selling the reality of it.”
Elara passed the roast vegetables around the table.
“I’ve been Elara Stone my whole adult life,” she said. “It’s part of who I am. But I also understand why taking Bryce’s name might matter.”
“To who?”
“To me.”
Saige studied her.
“Would keeping Stone mean you didn’t really want to be married?”
“No.”
“Would changing it mean you wanted to forget everything before him?”
“No.”
“Then how do you choose?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Vael had been listening quietly. He looked between Elara and Bryce.
“If you marry, what changes for the rest of us?”
Saige glanced at him, then back at her plate.
Elara understood what he was asking. So did Bryce.
“There’d be no reason for anything to change,” she said. “Not unless we all agreed it should.”
Vael held her gaze for a moment, then nodded.
Saige speared a piece of potato with her fork.
“So what would a wedding look like?”
“Probably something small,” Bryce said.
“In the barn,” Elara added.
“A barn wedding?” Saige asked. “Why?”
“I think it is a good idea,” Vael said.
“Bryce wants to turn it into a venue,” Elara said. “Weddings. Events. Keep the horses, but use the space.”
Saige considered this. “That’s actually not a terrible idea. The barn’s huge. And it’s already beautiful, if you ignore the hay dust.”
“I’m not ignoring the hay dust,” Bryce said. “I’m working around it.”
A pause. Then Saige laughed—a real laugh, surprised out of her, rough at the edges.
“God,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve really thought about all of this, haven’t you?”
Bryce did not answer. He did not need to.
Saige finally took a bite of goat.
For a while, the only sounds were knives against plates and cutlery scraping softly against china.
The food helped. It gave them pauses that did not need to be filled.
“What about you?” Bryce asked eventually.
Saige looked up. “What about me?”
“You and Vael. What happens after university?”
Saige’s expression closed slightly.
“We’re talking about you and Mum.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t ask.”
“Yes, it does. You’re changing the subject.”
“I’m not,” Bryce said. “If we’re talking about the properties and who lives where, your plans matter.”
Saige glanced at Vael.
He did not answer for her.
“We haven’t decided,” she said.
“Are you coming back here?” Elara asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to?”
“I said I don’t know.”
Elara heard the edge in her voice and let the question rest.
Bryce cut another piece of meat.
“The cabin will still be there.”
Saige frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means if you and Vael ever want space of your own, you can use it.”
She stared at him.
“You’d let us live there?”
“Yes.”
“Together?”
Bryce looked briefly at Vael, then back at her. “That’s usually how two people living together works.”
Saige ignored the joke.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not using it.”
“Do you still have things there?”
“Tools. A few boxes. Nothing that can’t be moved.”
Elara watched Saige’s face as she considered it.
Saige looked at her mother. “And if we didn’t want it?”
“Then you don’t take it.”
“And my room stays here?”
Elara frowned. “Of course it does.”
“You’ll be welcome in either house,” Bryce said. “At any hour. For as long as you need. Marriage doesn’t give me the right to push you out, and it wouldn’t make me want to.”
Saige’s attention returned to him.
“What would you do with the cabin if we didn’t?”
He shrugged. “Workshop. Guest accommodation. Leave it empty.”
“You don’t care?”
“I care about whether it’s useful. I don’t need to sleep there to prove it’s mine.”
Something in Saige’s shoulders loosened.
Vael took a piece of roasted pumpkin from the serving bowl.
“The cabin is farther from the house,” he said.
“It is,” Bryce replied.
“There would be more privacy.”
Saige looked at him.
“You’ve thought about it?”
“I have seen the cabin.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
A reluctant smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.
Then she looked back at Elara.
“We’re still discussing you.”
“Yes,” Elara said.
“What about children?”
Elara’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth.
Bryce looked at Saige. “What about them?”
“Would you have any?”
The question sat between them.
Elara looked at Bryce. He was already looking at her.
They had talked about marriage. The properties. The business. His cabin. Her surname. The possibility of a ceremony in the barn.
They had not talked about children.
“I don’t know,” Elara said.
Saige’s eyes moved between them. “You haven’t discussed it.”
“No.”
Saige gave a small, humourless laugh. “You’ve named the business, but you haven’t thought about the obvious.”
Elara placed her fork back on the table.
“Do you think we should have children?”
Saige looked startled. “That’s not my decision.”
“No,” Elara said. “It isn’t.”
The answer came more firmly than she intended, but Saige seemed to understand it. She lowered her eyes to her plate.
“I’m asking because it changes things.”
“What things?” Bryce asked.
“Inheritance.”
Bryce’s expression shifted.
“If you combine everything, what happens later?” Saige asked. “Does it all come to me, or would it be divided between me and any children you have?”
Elara was quiet.
She had thought about joining their lives. She had not thought about what would remain after them.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“You’d have to decide.”
“Yes.”
“Not tonight,” Bryce said. “But yes.”
Saige looked at him. “Would you want children?”
He glanced at Elara again.
“I’ve never ruled it out. But not having them isn’t a deal breaker either.”
Elara felt the answer more than she heard it.
“You’ve never told me that.”
“You never asked.”
“No. But I always thought you wanted them.”
He waited.
Elara looked down at her plate. She had spent most of Saige’s childhood trying to build a life stable enough for the two of them. The thought of beginning again—with sleepless nights, nappies, a child dependent on her for everything—felt impossibly distant from the woman she had become.
But not entirely impossible.
“I don’t know whether I’d want to start again,” she said. “That isn’t the same as saying no.”
Saige studied her.
“You’d actually consider it?”
“I’d consider talking about it.”
“That sounds like a politician’s answer.”
Bryce’s mouth curved. “She’s learning.”
Elara looked at him. “Don’t encourage her.”
Saige looked down again.
For a while, the only sounds were knives against plates and the scrape of cutlery.
The food had begun to cool, but at least they were eating now.
“She encouraged us,” Bryce said eventually.
Saige looked up. “To do what?”
“Get married.”
“I did not.”
“You asked if we were going to.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
“You put the idea on the table.”
“Apparently the idea was already on the table.”
Elara looked at him. “You were the one who said you’d make calls.”
“I was running with it.”
“You were stirring her up.”
“That too.”
Vael looked at Bryce. “Who were you going to call?”
Bryce paused.
“No one.”
“You said I could help.”
“I didn’t know what you intended to help with.”
“Neither did I.”
Saige stared at them before a laugh escaped her. She covered it with her hand, but it was too late.
Bryce pointed his fork at her. “There. Progress.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
He returned to his dinner.
“What do you think?” Saige asked Vael.
Vael looked up.
“About what?”
“About all of it.”
He considered the question.
“Marriage appears to create more questions than it answers.”
Bryce gave a short laugh. “That’s about right.”
“But they are already joined in most ways that matter,” Vael continued. “The ceremony would recognise what exists. It would not create it.”
Saige looked towards Elara and Bryce.
“You already live together.”
“Yes,” Elara said.
“And work together.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve already named the combined business.”
“The name came first,” Bryce said.
Saige gave him a look. “Fine.”
“And you’re talking about children and inheritance because of a wedding that hasn’t been planned.”
“We’re talking about them because you asked,” Elara said.
“That’s my point. You hadn’t.”
Elara could not argue with that.
Bryce placed his knife and fork together on his plate.
“So what do you think?”
Saige looked at him. “About you marrying Mum?”
“Yes.”
She was quiet for a long moment.
“I think you’ve thought about the part where you want to be together,” she said. “And the properties. And the business.”
“But not everything that comes after,” Bryce said.
“No. But I don’t think you can. Not all at once.”
The tension in Elara’s chest eased slightly.
“No,” she agreed. “Probably not.”
Saige pushed a piece of carrot through the gravy.
“I don’t want you waiting for me to give you permission.”
Elara went still.
“That isn’t what we’re asking.”
“I know. But this morning it felt like it was.” Saige lifted her eyes. “Like if I said no, you wouldn’t do it.”
Bryce glanced at Elara but said nothing.
Saige continued.
“I don’t want that either. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get married. I just don’t want to wake up one day and find out everything changed while I wasn’t looking.”
Elara reached across the table and placed her hand over Saige’s.
“You won’t.”
Saige looked at their hands.
“You’ll tell me?”
“Yes.”
“Before things happen?”
“Yes.”
Saige nodded once.
“That’s what I need.”
Elara squeezed her fingers before letting go.
Dinner continued. The conversation drifted towards horses, the weather and the work waiting for them the next morning. Vael asked Bryce about the goat, and Bryce explained which cuts still needed to be packed away.
When the plates were empty, Elara stood to clear the table.
Bryce took the plate from her hands.
“I’ll do it.”
“You and Vael brought dinner home. I can wash the dishes.”
“We brought home a goat. You made it edible.”
“Barely,” Saige said.
Elara turned towards her. “You had seconds.”
“That proves nothing.”
Saige pushed back her chair.
“I’m going to shower.”
She reached the doorway before Elara spoke.
“Saige.”
She looked back.
“Thank you. For talking about it.”
Saige’s expression softened.
“You said all of us.”
“I did.”
“So I showed up.”
She disappeared down the hall.
Vael began gathering the remaining plates.
“I’ll help Bryce.”
Elara touched his arm briefly.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saying what she was trying to ask.”
“I said what was true.”
He carried the plates towards the sink.
Elara remained at the table for a moment, listening to the tap running and the clink of crockery.
Nothing had been decided. No proposal. No ring. No date. No new name.
But the possibility no longer felt like a joke made over breakfast.
She stood and joined Bryce and Vael at the sink.
“Room for one more?”
Bryce handed her a tea towel.
“Always.”