Blaise felt he might be ill.

They were a mere two minutes from Dean's family's house. Blaise clutched the cake pan in his lap and tried to focus on the road. He felt Dean's hand grip his shoulder, but not even that touch could soothe the nerves. Without taking his attention from the road, Dean said,

"I can feel how tense you are, chef."

Blaise admitted, "I might vomit."

"It's just my family, Blaise. They love me, and they're going to love you because I love you."

Blaise looked at himself in the side mirror and saw his cheeks had gone a bit pink. Dean Thomas loved him. The ease with which he said it made Blaise feel like they'd been together eight years, not eight weeks.

"I know how important they are to you," he said. "This is part of your life that won't change. If I don't fit in, then that leaves me out entirely."

"Lucky for you, then, that I know they're going to like you because you're the opposite of Seamus in nearly every way."

"Well he did marry you, so let's hope not in every way."

Dean laughed. The moment they turned onto Overton Drive, Blaise pressed his head onto the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt the car slow, then make a left turn into the house's drive. Blaise didn't open his eyes until Dean had parked, exited the car, and opened the passenger door.

The house itself was nicely presented. Bushes lined the front fence, and a singular tree set between the house and the one beside it. The wooden door had a black metal mail slot, flanked on either side by shrubs in tiny square planters. Blaise couldn't say how he'd managed to get to the door, it seemed he had walked there in little more than a blink. Dean rapped his knuckles on the door, and it opened before he could move his hand away.

"My baby boy!"

A woman near Blaise's height pulled Dean into a tight hug. Blaise saw her grinning over Dean's shoulder and knew immediately this was his mother because they had the same smile. Blaise clutched the cake pan just a bit tighter. Dean's mother. His future mother-in-law. She stepped back a bit and shook her head.

"Every time I see you, there's more happiness in your eyes, baby." She nodded toward Blaise and asked, "Am I to believe this gentleman is responsible?"

"Mum," Dean placed his hand on Blaise's back between his shoulders, "this is my partner, Blaise Zabini. Blaise," he gestured toward his mother with his free hand, "this is my mum, Journey Hale."

Instead of saying, "It is lovely to meet you," or, "Thank you for inviting me into your lovely home," what came out was,

"I baked you a cake."

Blaise wanted nothing more than to walk back to the street and wait for the next car to plow straight into him. He longed for death. I baked you a cake. Blaise looked to Dean for help, then back toward Mrs. Hale just in time to catch them both falling into a fit of giggles. She had dark, loose curls that fell past her shoulders. Hair like Dean's. For someone who had birthed eight children, she was rather fit. Blaise was impressed by how strong she looked. Again, just like Dean, a strength that never wavered. She was in a simple black jumper and jeans, with a white button-down underneath. Blaise felt he might be a bit overdressed, but that was the least of his concerns. Mrs. Hale stopped laughing long enough to say,

"Thank you, Mr. Zabini. That was very thoughtful. Come, now, you've no reason to be embarrassed. Unlike the last man Dean was with, you can see over the countertops."

Blaise admitted, "I don't think I can do this."

"If you can bake a cake, you've already won most of us over. Come in, I'll introduce you to my daughters."

Blaise loosened his grip on the cake and walked inside, with Dean close behind. He placed a reassuring hand on Blaise's waist and gave it a gentle squeeze. Blaise followed Mrs. Hale through the foyer and into the open plan kitchen / dining / family area. There were seven girls milling about. Each of their heads swiveled around toward the entry as if they felt Dean's presence. Mrs. Hale announced,

"Girls, Dean's brought a guest."

"This," Dean took Blaise's free hand in his, "is Blaise Zabini. My boyfriend." Another pause, before adding, "He baked a cake for dessert, so be nice."

"I saw him on a magazine!" came one voice. "He was on the cover of Attitude for pride month last year."

Mrs. Hale sighed, "Yes, thank you, Lou."

Mrs. Hale began to introduce each of her daughters in turn. Blaise knew them all immediately; Dean had given him an overview of the family which Blaise committed to memory. He was terrified of getting a name wrong or offending them. Any rift meant he could lose Dean. One wrong step and everything could fall apart. Mrs. Hale pointed toward a woman in her late twenties leaning against the refrigerator.

"This is my eldest daughter, Ava. She is a veterinarian at Emerson & Watson, working for the best equestrians in the country. She's often an on-site vet at Cowdray Park Polo Club."

Ava gave Blaise a half-hearted nod then looked down at her phone. Mrs. Hale tried to keep a smile on her face, but it faltered a moment. She then gestured to the smallest of the older four, sitting with her legs crossed on a barstool.

"This is my second-eldest, Kinsley. She is between jobs at the moment—"

"Mum, here," said Kinsley, "doesn't consider being a striker for the West Ham women's club a job."

"You work in a coffee shop to pay the bills, Kinsley. You're twenty-five and you live at home. A job isn't a job unless it pays the bills."

Dean said he saw the most of himself in Kinsley. Blaise suspected there was a slight bit of envy there, as she had managed to play football professionally. She wore a West Ham kit and her hair was in a bun as if she had just come from practice. It was the light in Kinsley's smile and her insistence on defending herself that were so quintessentially Dean. Mrs. Hale gestured to the next-youngest, who looked very much like her mother. Tall, broad shoulders, a slim waist, and she had an air of control about her. Unlike her mother, she had completely shaved her head.

"This is Leilani, who is a calligrapher and artist. You'd assume she makes the least amount of any of them, but she makes more than I do."

Leilani said, "The June wedding season kept me quite busy."

"Then there's Lou," Mrs. Hale sighed, "our resident reader of Attitude magazine, apparently. Also pursuing her master's degree in chemistry. These fifteen-year-olds are Olivia and Amelia, then Zara should be—"

A young girl came zooming in from the garden and made a beeline for Dean's legs. Just before she crashed into him, Dean scooped her up in a hug and spun in a circle before resting her against his hip.

"My favourite little girl in the whole world, isn't that right, Z?"

She grinned up at Dean and nodded.

"Your boyfriend's pretty."

"He is, isn't he?" Dean looked at Blaise with the softest, most content look on his face. "He even baked us a cake."

Zara asked, "What flavour?"

"Chocolate."

She thought on it for a moment.

"He can stay. Put me down."

Dean placed Zara back on the floor, and she ran back to the garden. He shrugged and said,

"That's everyone."

For a moment, each of the oldest six glanced around at each other. Blaise realized that Mr. Hale, or as Dean referred to him, My Mother's Husband, was absent. "Everyone" wasn't quite everyone, then. Blaise held up the cake pan and asked,

"Where should I put this?"

Mrs. Hale said, "On the counter in the kitchen."

The chaos commenced once again. It was Lou who cornered Blaise as he put down the cake, and pulled him into the foyer by his elbow. Of all his sisters, Lou looked the most like Dean. She was tall, gangly, and had the same nose as her brother. She had a welcoming face and a kind air. Dean said he saw the most of himself in Kinsley, but really, Blaise thought Lou might be more like Dean than she let on. She kept her voice low and said,

"I did some research on you. You're an only child, yes?"

Blaise nodded.

"Okay, there are a lot of dynamics here that you need to understand, and you need to understand very fast."

The knots in Blaise's stomach tightened. He nodded.

"I will do my best."

"Right, Ava, typical older sister. Overachiever, sort of acts as the bridge between Dean and the rest of us. They're about seven or eight years apart. If you want to be in this family, you've got to get her on your side otherwise she'll make your life hell."

Blaise couldn't reply. He fell a bit deeper into his own head, hoping he wouldn't say or do something wrong.

"Kinsley lives here at home; she's real passionate about football. Mum hates it, but knows she's good enough to play professionally and doesn't want to squash that dream. Though she does play it down every chance she gets. All you've got to do is validate football as a career, and Kinsley will love you. She wants an ally more than anything."

He could do that.

"Leilani is a pragmatic businesswoman. She's also the one who subscribes to Attitude magazine, if you understand me saying so."

Ah.

"Her father is not the sort to approve of Attitude magazine, if Dean has told me correctly."

"He did, which is why nobody knows except me. Nobody really cares about me or what I do, so," Lou shrugged, "if I say I'm reading Attitude magazine, they assume it's a phase and move on. Leilani and Dean are in a bit of a spat right now because Dean won't let her do any work for his books. Says she's not of the same style, because obviously she's not. Luna Lovegood is one of the great artists of our time, and Leilani doesn't have the skill to intrude on that. Dean's too kind to put it to her in those words, so Leilani still has her mind set on it."

"I see."

"She's also not going to alienate the only other reader of Attitude magazine in the family."

"What of you?"

"Oh!" She giggled. "That's so odd, nobody ever asks me much of anything. I want to be a chemist. I'm just here, mostly. In the middle. Three older, three younger, and Lou in the middle. Speaking of the youngest ones, you've not much hope of pleasing Olivia and Amelia. They were really close to Seamus and since the split, they haven't been able to see him. They haven't forgiven Dean for that—"

"Do they know—"

"Yes, they know he cheated, but they're so much younger than Dean that it's never been a solid relationship. The twins loved hiking with Shea. He had a similar role for them as Dean does with Zara. Shea would take the twins hiking when Dean didn't want to go. Which was basically always. By the looks of you, I'm guessing you're not much for hiking."

"Certainly not."

"The twins won't warm up to you for a long while. Then there's Zara, who looks at Dean half like a brother and half like a father. Dean's been nannying for Zara since she was born, because my mum's career took off right about then. Shea could spend time with the twins, Dean could spend time with Zara. Our family was really close for awhile … until it wasn't."

"The divorce was hard on all of you?"

"Yes." Lou's face fell for a moment. "Dean put up a good front, but I saw what was happening. Everyone else believed him, but I knew something was wrong. He didn't …" She shook her head. "He didn't have a car anymore. He wasn't staying here, so where was he sleeping? My brother was homeless for months, yet he showed up at school every day to teach maths with a smile on his face. I took it hard, but kept it to myself. The twins didn't speak to Dean much until last year. My parents wouldn't help Dean with divorce proceedings or funds for a lawyer. My dad said, 'The puffs want to get married like us, they can get divorced like us, too.'"

Blaise had heard all of that before. The same refrain, different words, similar rhythm even in Italian. They're not like us, but if they want to be treated like us, then they should suffer for it. Must've been husband number five. Blaise was not sad to see that man's obituary.

"Ava helped Dean with some of his property stuff and found him a decent flat. Leilani made a custom cover page for the divorce papers. It's actually quite beautiful; makes me want to get married and then divorced just to have an excuse to get one. Zara was only six when Shea left, so she doesn't have much stake in any of it."

Blaise admitted, "Dean didn't tell me any of this."

"I figured he hadn't," Lou said, "which is why I am."

"Thank you."

Lou raised her voice and half-shouted, "Wow! So that is what it's like to do a magazine cover shoot! That is BRILLIANT!" She nodded for Blaise to follow her back into the main room of the house.

Blaise found himself rather lost without her. He glanced over at Ava. She looked at him with an intensely furrowed brow. Blaise figured she would be his last conversation of the evening. Dean was on the sofa, talking with the twins. There was a significant distance between them, a tension Blaise wouldn't have noticed if Lou failed to mentioned it. Kinsley was still on the barstool with one leg tucked beneath her. She seemed like a good place to start, and before Blaise took a single step, she beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.

"I have a confession."

Blaise raised his eyebrows and asked, "Oh?"

"Ginny asked me for help getting Dean to your party a few months ago. He didn't want to go, so I nudged him along. Then he wanted to stay late at school and asked whether it was okay if he went straight to the party in his jumper."

Blaise grimaced.

"He never would have made it through the door."

"Which is what I told him." Kinsley popped her fingers and said, "I'm glad I did. He's been happier since he's been seeing you. He texts me photographs of the lunches you bring him. 'Can you believe Blaise brought me Bolognese?'"

"I like cooking for him because he will try anything."

"Yeah, he will." Kinsley gently kicked at Blaise's knee with her foot. "Ginny's been part of my life forever. She's the reason I started playing football. When she told me what she was planning, I knew it was perfect. Ginny's always been Dean's biggest supporter, so if she said you were the man for him, it had to be right."

"Ginny has a good eye for people." Blaise added, "She never mentioned she knew Dean. If she had, I most likely would have begged her for his number years ago."

"Are you happy?"

"Pardon?"

"With my brother." Kinsley nodded toward where Dean was still leaning on the sofa. "Are you happy with my brother? He's so happy. Dean was ten when I was born, so I never got to see him as a kid. This is what I imagine he must've been like. When he FaceTimes me, I can see how happy you make him. He's got a new laugh around you. It's freer, I think."

"Thank you," replied Blaise. "That is a kind thing for you to say. Dean makes me very happy."

"I believe you." Kinsley sipped some water from her glass. "You don't speak much, though, that's what Dean says. You're not much of a talker."

"I'm not."

"I won't keep you, then." She added, "Mum's out in the garden on her thinking bench. Probably thinking about you, so if you're looking for someone else to talk to, that's your best bet."

Blaise glanced over his shoulder at where Dean was still on the sofa, speaking with Olivia and Amelia. He asked,

"Will he be awhile?"

"Mhmm." Kinsley spun the glass between her fingers. "Shea and Dean splitting up was worse for them than if our actual parents had gotten divorced. They'd just begun dating when the twins were born. Shea had always been in their lives and now they haven't seen him in three years. They blame Dean for it, even though they shouldn't. They're fifteen, what the hell do they know? He still sends them birthday cards and Christmas cards, but I'm not meant to tell Dean that so keep it to yourself."

"Of course."

"Go see my mum."

Blaise obliged. He walked out the back and into a garden, along the stone path toward the back fence. Mrs. Hale sat on a bench toward the left, gazing out at the final bits of sunlight struggling to stay above the horizon. Blaise found it far easier to speak about difficult things in the dark. There were small lights at the base of some of the trees, but most of the light was cast off from inside the house. Blaise sat next to Mrs. Hale on the bench in companionable silence for several minutes. It was quite nice. Life was easier when no one expected him to speak. Dean's mother eventually said,

"I asked around about you."

Blaise wondered, "Whom did you ask?"

"We have friends who dine at your restaurant. They say the food is good. You are always whisking in and out of the kitchen … Until recently. You're spotted less often, now, and I can't help but wonder whether your love for my boy rivals your love for cooking."

"My love for Dean far outpaces the love I have for anything, excepting my godson whom I place above all else."

"Tell me about your godson." Mrs. Hale asked, "Do you have pictures?"

"Of course." Blaise slid closer to her on the bench and pulled out his phone. He opened the Scorpius album and scrolled through chronologically. "This was his Christening. He's so pale you can hardly tell where the outfit ends and he begins. This was a romper with a removable skirt overtop. Scorpius looked a bit ridiculous in a skirt, but keeping to tradition is important to me. The little newsboy cap was my friend Theo's idea."

"You're Catholic, then."

"I was." Blaise quickly amended, "I am. I worked for a very long time to justify the church to myself. However, three years ago I stepped away because I was distant from those beliefs. From a community which only ever embraced the parts of me they feel are appropriate and shaming me for the love I truly wanted. Now that I am considering a life with Dean, I find myself longing to be part of the church again while realizing we can never be married in it."

"Show me more, then."

Blaise pulled up another photograph and said, "This was Scorpius's first birthday." Another, "This is me reading him The Scarlet Steam Engine on his third birthday. I loved that book from the moment I read it. They are Scorpius's favourite." He scrolled to another photograph. "This is one of us Dean took during a weekend at Malfoy Manor. I'd fallen asleep and Scorpius decided to take a nap with me."

"That is adorable." Mrs. Hale said, "I can't help but notice the boy's father isn't in any of these."

"No." Blaise pocketed his phone. "No, he isn't. Draco has been overwhelmed by grief since his wife died. He was quite unwell at the beginning of Scorpius's life, which is why I stepped in. Ginny had a newborn as well, so we often cared for the two boys together. She taught me so much, and I was a very good nanny, if I may say so."

"You are a father to this boy?"

"I am uncomfortable with that notion."

Mrs. Hale wondered, "What is your relationship to the boy's biological father?"

"He is my deepest friend. A former love, he and I have been together in some form since I was eight years old. The grief settled into his heart, so I did as any man would do for the sort of friend Draco has been to me."

"A former love, you said?"

"Before Dean, he was my only love." Blaise admitted, "I knew what I wanted. I believed Draco could become that man, but it was not meant to be. We ended things ten years ago and are both better for it."

Mrs. Hale revealed, "I placed a call to Dean's ex-husband, who had nothing but glowing things to say of you."

"I find Seamus Finnegan to be very interesting. And, as I told him, his divorce is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Mrs. Hale threw her head back and laughed. She patted Blaise on the thigh and said,

"What an odd thing to say. You are an odd one, Mr. Zabini, but you must be the most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on. Dean has smiled more now than he has in four years. My boy has a lot of love to give, and Seamus didn't know how to appreciate it." She paused before adding, "I think you might."

"I find myself wondering how Dean could ever see comparable value in me, because his kindness is so genuine. He tries to see the best in everyone, and I find myself worried he may be overlooking parts of me that aren't worthy of him."

"The trick is knowing that Dean's too good-hearted for anyone. He deserves whomever he chooses. By the looks of things, he's chosen you. Dean asked me to get the girls together so they could meet you. Getting the seven of them in one place requires a lot of schedule management. Dean was insistent it happen as soon as possible, which leads me to believe whatever is happening between you two is very sudden, very intense, and very much about to result in a marriage proposal." Mrs. Hale raised a single eyebrow and asked, "Am I correct?"

Blaise tried not to smile. Dean's mum wasn't saying no. She wasn't saying he was horrible.

"A proposal is not imminent. My godson adores Dean, but the biggest test was this, seeing whether I fit into this family the way he fits into mine. I do plan to ask Dean to marry me, most likely around the year's end."

"That's five more months. Dean doesn't want to wait five months, I'd be surprised if he wanted to wait five weeks. The girls seem to have taken well to you. As well as can be expected, anyway. The twins and Dean were close before the divorce, a bridge that is still being rebuilt. Why do you feel you need so much time when he doesn't?"

Blaise admitted, "I want to give Dean enough time to figure out whether life with me is something he truly wants."

"My, you have such low self-esteem for so beautiful a person."

Blaise slumped backward in the chair and stared resolutely down at his hands.

"I wouldn't say it's low self-esteem so much as a lifelong history of abandonment."

"Oh, yes, I did read about your mum. Sad she died so young—"

"It's not." Blaise insisted, "I do not have the English words to say how pleased I am she is dead. I was five years old when our older neighbor woman took me in. She taught me to cook and gave me love for the first time in my life. Then my mother took me away to England and I was lost once again. She never told me who my father was because then I would have family. I've never had a family of my own."

"Well that boy of yours—"

"Draco's. He is Draco's son."

"—as I said," Mrs. Hale snapped, "that boy of yours looks like family to me. And Dean has his own familial issues. Mostly of Seamus's making, but even before then, things were never perfect. A second marriage is hard for anyone, but particularly Dean because he was so much older than his siblings. Eight years older than Ava, ten years older than Kinsley, twelve years older than Leilani, thirteen years above Lou, nineteen years older than the twins, and twenty-five years older than Zara. It's hard to fit into a family that was built beside you, not around you. I suppose you two might have found the family you want in each other."

"I hope so."

"Well." Mrs. Hale stood up from the bench. "You have my blessing. It's not what you came here for, but you have it. He has been aching inside for years, and when he looks at you, Mr. Zabini, I see my boy the way he was when he was little. And I see Dean's father and the way he used to look at me. He never looked at Seamus like that, never once. Now, Zara could use some help with her puzzle."

Then she was gone, leaving Blaise alone in the garden. He stared at the fence opposite him, then let his eyes trail down toward the grass, then following the stone path back to the house. It was rather peaceful, even with a view of all the chaos beyond the doors. Maybe Blaise could fit in with this family. He stood from the bench and made his way inside.

Zara was perched on the barstool vacated by Kinsley. Blaise sat on the stool beside her and asked,

"Would you like me to help?"

"Yes."

And that was it. Together, they began to find the edge pieces and place them appropriately. Zara was a nine-year-old of few words. Blaise liked that; neither of them felt a need to fill the silence. It was a fairly small puzzle, two hundred pieces, which took them about twenty minutes to complete together. Blaise handed Zara the final piece and watched her reverently put it in place. She smiled down at it, then up at Blaise, and offered him her hand.

"Thank you."

Blaise shook her hand and said, "You are quite welcome."

Then Zara hopped off the barstool and said, "Can I have cake?"

"Yes. I will cut you a slice of cake."

"A small one," she said, "because mum doesn't let me have big pieces."

"Of course."

Blaise walked around the island to the countertop and uncovered the cake pan. He pulled open a drawer and was delighted to find the cutlery on his first guess. He grabbed a knife and made to cut the cake into ten slices.

"I want to talk to you."

Blaise felt Ava's presence at his side and glanced to his right where she leaned back with her elbows on the countertop. By her tone, Blaise could immediately tell he had failed to meet her approval. All the confidence Blaise had gained from Dean's mother began to waver. Ava said,

"I liked Seamus."

Blaise agreed, "He is a good man who made a very poor decision."

"Interesting. You think that a man who rips his husband's life away is a good person?"

"A good person," Blaise repeated, "with poor choices."

"And you make better choices?"

"Yes."

"Like the choice to date Draco Malfoy, the patriarch of one of our country's most nefarious families?"

Blaise shook his head. Ava had no idea of what she spoke. Her arrogance was no reason to be baited into an argument. He simply said,

"Draco is a good man who made poor choices."

"Is there a good man who makes good choices?"

"Your brother."

"Ah." Ava hummed to herself, "You are a good choice, then?"

"You would need to ask Dean."

"I intend to." She paused before asking, "Why are you famous?"

"For being rich, beautiful, and very gay."

"Is that so?" Ava asked in a curious tone. "I thought it might be the sexy selfies you post to Instagram and the calendars you sell every year."

Blaise insisted, "The selfies are just as gratifying to everyone else as they are to me; sometimes vanity is a two-way street. The calendars are a fundraiser for Salisbury District Hospital where my godson was born."

"And where Draco Malfoy's wife died, if I read correctly."

Blaise felt the colour drain from his face. It appeared Ava Hale was far more versed in his life than she let on. How many dots had she connected? He confirmed,

"Yes, that is where Astoria died six years ago."

"So you … What? Fell in love with Draco Malfoy, enough to give your slut money to the hospital where his son was born and be a parent to his kid?"

Without missing a beat, Blaise replied, "Yes."

"Right." Ava snapped, "My brother is not a second choice. He is not a consolation prize."

Blaise had to stop himself from laughing. As if Dean could ever be anything less than … anything less than everything. He continued slicing the cake and said,

"I like that you are protective of him."

"After what happened with Seamus, my brother was lost. He was a shadow of the man he once was, desperate to understand why he wasn't enough. Dean felt like he wasn't enough, and I don't want that to happen again. He's my big brother. His dad's been dead thirty years, our mum has seven kids to raise other than him, nobody's ever put Dean first, not even his husband. Somebody's got to give a fuck about him, and it's me."

Blaise put down the knife and looked into Ava's eyes.

"I read The Scarlet Steam Engine to my godson when he was three. I loved the book so much I flipped to the back and read the author biography. I looked at Dean's photo and grabbed my phone, straight to Google. You can ask Draco, he was there, I was muttering to myself, please be gay, please be gay, please be gay. Of course, he was gay … and married. For nearly three years, now, that man hasn't left my mind. When he walked through my door and into my kitchen …" Blaise returned his attention to the cake. "I've never felt so desperate in my life. My head, on repeat, please like me, please like me, please like me."

"Yes," Ava said, "that is desperate."

"Then when I walked him out it was, please kiss me. He kissed me and it was please hold me. He left and I thought, please come back. Now it's please love me. Please move in with me. And someday soon, it will be, please marry me." He took a deep breath then let it out slowly. "When you say desperate, I am desperate for him. I've never loved someone as deeply, as fully as I love Dean."

"Why?"

Blaise shrugged and began placing slices of cake onto plates.

"Nothing I say will soothe your concerns. These questions are best put to Dean."

Ava insisted, "I'm asking you."

"Again, these answers are best coming from Dean."

"I don't believe I need to ask him much of anything. I see you very clearly for who you are, and I don't like it. I don't like you for my brother at all."

Blaise's heart broke into a dozen pieces. Dean was closest to Ava, of all his sisters, and she didn't like him. He slumped his shoulders a bit and said,

"I am sorry to hear that."

"I bet you are, because you are a desperate, pathetic man clinging to my brother as some sort of proof you aren't completely unlovable. When I Googled you, all I saw were photographs of you and food, or you and random men. Aside from the risqué photographs that, by some grace of Mark Zuckerburg, have yet to get you banned from Instagram. All I see since you arrived here, is a man who believes lowering his standards will get him a man who won't leave."

Blaise's fear was confirmed. To the outside world, he was a slutty billionaire with an inability to commit to anything that wasn't food. He longed for commitment, but there had never been anyone worth committing to before Dean Thomas.

"I won't disagree with you when it comes to my own vanity. I know the truth of it. I have tried repeatedly to find someone worthwhile. Someone interesting, someone who understands the way I speak and the way I don't. Your brother is not lowering my standards in any way. He is the only man I have ever felt I could live the rest of my life with."

Ava hesitated, but asked, "Because you're gay black men whose fathers were never in the picture?"

"I won't deny there is a relief knowing he understands that part of my life." Blaise tried to say it delicately. "When you are so different from the people around you, it is difficult to be happy because you feel like both an outsider and a burden."

"That's what you believe Dean is to me?" spat Ava. "A burden?"

"Perhaps we have both misstepped in our perceptions of each other."

"No, I'm bang-on about you. You're a third choice for Draco Malfoy, a third parent at best to your godson, and the third love of Dean's life. Ginny, then Shea, and now …" Ava shrugged. "You, for some reason. You've got everything in the world: money, notoriety, a gorgeous face … Yet always the bronze and never the gold for Blaise Zabini. My brother may be blinded by you because you're handsome and wealthy and your praise feels like the truth, but I know better. My brother is a gold medal, top-shelf sort of man and you're no better than a warm corona from Tesco."

Third place.

The bronze medal.

Blaise felt that in his soul. It was almost comical how perfect the insult was. Blaise had never let on about that particular insecurity. He'd always been third to his mother: his unknown father first, the new husband second, Blaise third. Of all Draco's loves, Blaise would take the bronze. Astoria the silver and Hermione Granger the gold, given time. Scorpius loved his parents as best he could, but Blaise would never have the biological connection that Draco and Astoria had to their son.

Blaise had never been the most important part of someone's life. What good was it trying to pretend Dean was any different? If Blaise let this relationship continue, if they got married, Dean would eventually figure out he wasn't worthwhile. The only thing worse than letting Dean go, would be Dean leaving him. And Ava was right, he would eventually leave. Blaise couldn't bear the thought, so he pulled out his phone and tapped a rideshare app. He sniffled and said,

"I appreciate your concern for your brother." Blaise cleared his throat and said, "Please excuse me, I wish to have a moment in the garden."

He stepped out of the back of the house and into the garden, milling about for a moment so no one expected anything. Blaise watched as the rideshare appeared three minutes away. He glanced into the house to see Ava delicately placing the completed puzzle on a mat and transferring it to a nearby desk. This family was better without Blaise in it.

Dean was still on the sofa talking to the twins. Blaise hoped that he was making progress with them, because Dean deserved that. Blaise never would have guessed Dean was so distant from his family. He spoke of them so highly and so often, which was why Blaise could never make this work. He was ashamed he ever believed it would. Dean Thomas's life was too good for him, and he had deluded himself into thinking otherwise. No amount of money, sex, or surprise lunches would ever make him good enough to be a first choice. That's what Ava had been trying to say. Blaise wasn't lowering his standards for Dean; Dean was settling for him.

Blaise walked around the side of the house to the front, where his car was pulling up. His departure unnoticed, Blaise opened the door, stepped inside, and spared one last look at the house. The car pulled away and Blaise leaned backward onto the seat. He turned his phone off and tried to put Ava's words out of his mind, but once that insecurity rose to the surface there was no hiding it.

Always the bronze, never the gold.