By the time we went down to the backyard where there were bar tables with stools scattered around, and fairy lights illuminating the pool, there was a table filled with snacks and appetizers, all beside a bar with every kind of drink available. Carly and Mason were having a conversation with a couple around their age, the man was tall with blonde hair that had a few grey streaks and the woman was short and tiny with shoulder-length brunette hair.

With them was a short girl who appeared to be around Kate's age, she had a pixie haircut which was colored pink, the couple looked familiar, but I've met so many of Mitchell's relatives that I didn't remember all their names.

I did, however, recognize Mitchell's grandfather and he seemed to recognize me too because he came over to greet me with a hug, I let go of Mitchell's hand and hugged him back. I was glad there was no weirdness, since the last time we spoke he had no idea who my father was.

"It's lovely to see you again, dear," Grandpa Clarke grinned.

I smiled, "Likewise."

"Hi, Gramps," Mitchell greeted with a slight edge to his tone, "I'm here too you know."

"I noticed you," Grandpa Clarke said, "But I see you all the time."

Mitchell scoffed under his breath and mumbled something incoherent, Mitchell's grandfather then smiled and hugged him, Mitchell finally smiled, and I couldn't help but find his pettiness cute.

I later found out the couple I first saw was Josh's parents and the girl with the pixie cut was his twin sister. Josh and Kate went to school in the UK and because Thanksgiving wasn't a holiday over there, they couldn't make it. Gregory, his sister Ivy, and their parents shortly arrived with Carly's mom and then arrived Macy – whose wedding I attended in the summer with Mitchell – accompanied by her husband and parents.

Greg was still the same as I remembered and just as I was happy to see him, so was he. We spoke most of the time while Mitchell and Josh's sister – I learned her name was Mia. According to Greg, Mitchell, and Mia never got along when growing up but as the years went by, they became very good friends.

"So, what's it like rooming with my cousin?" Greg asked as he sipped on champagne.

I chewed down an olive from the cheese skewer I was eating, "Honestly, it's alright," I answered, "For one he's the total opposite of a slob, and secondly, he's not all that bad company."

Greg nodded and seemed to be lost in thoughts for a moment before he asked, "And you guys are just roommates slash friends?"

I furrowed my brows, "Yeah," I drawled, "Why? What has he been telling you?"

"Nothing," Greg shook his head, "It's just I've noticed his eyes fall a lot on you despite being seemingly engrossed in other conversations."

I glanced his way, and he was smiling at something the short, pink-haired girl said but as soon as I was about to look away, I caught his eyes on me. He noticed and quickly looked back at Mia and placed his hand in his pocket, seeing that a small smirk grew onto my lips and I felt... flattered.

"Do you blame the guy?" I tried to avert the attention away from what Greg really wanted to ask, "This dress is a hit."

Greg chuckled, "Can't argue with that," He took another sip of his drink, "Was the color coordination planned?"

I shook my head, "No, purely coincidental," I scrunched my nose at the idea of matching with anyone, "I'm not into matching outfits or whatever, it's too rainbows and unicorns for me."

Conversation flowed, I spoke to Greg's parents and sister who were delightful, as well as Macy and her family. Mitchell's grandmother was also lovely, she was very sweet and kind and reminded me a lot of Carly. 

The sun was beginning to set, the sky was a beautiful orange with clouds here and there, the air became cooler and the night was slowly starting to creep in as dinner time approached. My time with Mitchell's family and friends was so good that I had no time to think about anything which dampened my spirits, I was having a nice time after a long while.

While chatting to everyone else, I'd barely had a minute with Mitchell but just like he did with me, I stole a few glances his way too and I noticed how much more at ease and happier he looked compared to the last time he met up with this crowd at Macy's wedding – Mitchell surely had grown since then and I was happy to have played a small role in that.

I put down a glass I just finished sipping champagne from and was about to make my way to where Mitchell and Greg stood in what appeared to be a funny conversation but before I could reach them, the short brunette woman who was Josh's mother stopped me.

"Mila, right?" She said and seeing her up close I realized how pretty she was, she looked more than a decade younger than her age. I also knew she was a renowned fashion designer, so I didn't miss her visual inspection of my dress.

"Ralph Lauren?" She asked and touched the fabric on my sleeve.

I nodded, surprised how she guessed it correctly, "Yes, to both your questions."

"I'm Amber," She extended her hand with a smile, revealing a dimple on her left cheek.

"I know," I shook her hand, "We met briefly at Macy's wedding and Josh told me a lot about you."

Amber smiled, "I remember but at that time I had no idea you were Damien Brinson's daughter."

I didn't know what to say, it was the first time since I arrived at the Clarke house that anyone mentioned that detail about me. I knew that my dad went to school with Carly and all her friends, but I didn't know with whom he was close to and who not.

"Yeah..." I replied, "It's, um, a little complicated."

"You have his eyes," Amber said and at her short height, I was surprised how she could look directly into my eyes without spraining her neck, with the three-inch heels I wore, I currently stood at six-foot.

"Carly, me, and my husband, Nate were really good friends with Damien," She explained, "We were one clique and were almost always together."

'Carly and Damien were a lot more than just good friends.'

"How is he?" Amber asked, "It's a pity that we lost touch, Nate tried to reach out, but he changed his number and residence, almost as if he just fell off the face of the earth."

This conversation was a little awkward, I didn't know how to answer her because I was certain she spent more time with my dad in her days than I have in the last twenty-two years.

"He's well," I politely answered, "A very busy man, but he's good."

"Does he ever talk about his friends?" Amber asked.

"Um," I hesitated and thought over my words before answering, "If I'm honest with you, I didn't even know my dad had friends... he keeps his circle small."

Amber opened her mouth to probably ask another question that I didn't have a proper answer to but before she could, a tall man whom I knew was her husband joined her side. Josh's resemblance to his father was almost uncanny, except he had his mother's brown eyes.

"Nate," Amber circled her arm around Nate's, "This is Mila, Damien Brinson's daughter."

Nate seemed polite, he extended his arm and shook my hand, "We've met before but it's a pleasure, dear."

I returned his smile with a small grin, "It's just Mila."

"Nate and your dad were best friends," Amber went on to explain, "They were the only two decent guys on the school football team."

This was news to me; I didn't know my dad played football but I guessed I could see a younger version of himself doing that.

"My father played football?" I questioned.

"That and many other sports," Nate answered, "He was like the golden boy, excelled in everything he did, from athletics to academics."

'Not at being a father he didn't.'

I could believe that, I saw a lot of his accolades in his study at home and there was no doubt with the way he spoke and carried himself that he was intelligent – not to mention what a successful businessman he was.

I didn't know how to respond to that given how little I actually knew about my father; it was a little disheartening to hear things about him from strangers and as his daughter, to feel like an outsider.

"Besides that," Nate added, "Damien was the nicest, most kind and loving guy I ever met."

He seemed to be lost in thoughts before he looked my way and grinned, "When you see him, tell him his old pal Nate said hi."

I wasn't sure when I was going to see my father, given the way we last spoke but they didn't need to know that so I simply nodded.

"I will."

"Your mom is a lucky woman," Amber said, and just like that my heart dropped, I knew Amber meant well and she seemed nice, but she didn't have much of a filter, "To have a gentleman like Damien by her side, I bet there's never a day she doesn't smile."

I suddenly felt like I needed another glass of champagne or perhaps something stronger, this conversation was stirring feelings and memories I didn't want to think about because if I did, I would break down.

"And I'm sure she's beautiful," Amber added, "Because you, my darling, are gorgeous."

"I can see why Mitch is smitten," She glanced at Mitchell, "I never thought even in my wildest dreams that Mason's son and Damien's daughter would meet let alone be so close."

"Um," I hesitated, trying to keep my emotions in check. I glanced at Mitchell's way, hoping to get his attention so he could save me but for the first time, he didn't glance my way.

"Did your parents meet in New York?" Amber asked, "Because I have an apartment there but not once did I bump into Damien, but then again New York is huge."

"My," I began, "My parents were never toget –"

"Mila," I let out a huge breath when Mason appeared next to me, "I was wondering where Carly's sous-chef was."

I smiled gratefully at him and he blinked at me, telling me he was here to bail me out of this conversation. I supposed he was nearby and overheard Amber's words.

"Rubylocks," Mason turned to Amber, "Why are interrogating this poor girl? You'll scare her off before dinner."

Amber rolled her eyes and I inwardly frowned at the odd name Mason referred to her as.

"My hair hasn't been red for decades, Clarke," Amber narrowed her eyes at Mason, "Stop with that name already."

Mason swiftly changed the subject and went on to tell me that when they were in high school, Amber dyed her hair a bright red and because they never really got along, he nicknamed her Rubylocks, and ever since then, it stuck.

I smiled gratefully at Mason who very easily took the attention off me and my father, it wasn't long before Carly invited everyone inside for dinner and with his hand around my shoulder, Mason led me inside.

The dining table was huge, but it looked small with the number of dishes on it, Mitchell helped his mother set up the table with a white, gold, and green theme. The plates were white with silver rims, sitting on rounded, gold glass placemats. In the middle of the table were little floral arrangements, made of white daisies and green leaves to compliment them, all placed in vases that resembled white pumpkins.

Everyone took their seats at the table, I sat between Mitchell and Gregory and directly opposite Macy and her husband. Seeing everyone happy and smiling, made me a little sad as I reminisced the intimate Thanksgiving dinners with my family. Being around Mitchell's happy family made me miss my family more than anything and even though I never spent it with my dad, a part of me thought of him too, I hoped that whatever they were doing, he was happy.

"The Clarke's really go all out for Thanksgiving," I commented under my breath.

Mitchell who was seated beside me heard and I could feel his eyes on me, "We have a lot to be grateful for."

I turned to him and his eyes were firmly fixed on me, I offered a small smile hoping to push away the sadness in the pit of my stomach. I was a lot better than before, but that sadness was still fresh, and I wasn't sure if it would ever go away.

"Hey," I felt Mitchell's hand on mine from under the table, he looked at me with concern, "Are you alright?"

I swallowed and nodded, attempting a convincing smile, "Yeah."

"Did Aunt Amber say something to upset you?" He asked.

I shook my head, "No, she just had a lot of questions about... my parents."

Mitchell looked apologetically at me, "I'm sorry, she means well but she doesn't have a filter most of the time and can be rather eccentric."

"I'm good," I assured.

Mitchell nodded and after giving my hand a squeeze he let go so we could proceed with dinner formalities.

Thankfully as dinner progressed, that feeling I had slipped away, and having Greg beside me was good entertainment. He told me about the many dinners he had growing up and what a brat Mitchell used to be when he was a kid, it was Thanksgiving tradition for him to spill or mess something on the table and then have his parents scold him.

The food was great, even though I only ate the vegetarian dishes, there were too many to choose from. Everyone's plates were full, and chatter and laughter went around as we ate. I was glad that I chose to join the Clarke's because they were so family orientated and happy that it filled my heart with warmth.

When dessert arrived, Mitchell looked like he won the lottery, his eyes sparkled and he mumbled 'finally' when he took a slice of each pie and even a serving of Carly's brownies with ice cream. Mitchell ate so much sugar that I felt sick looking at him, I had no idea how someone could consume so much without falling ill.

"My mom's a doctor," He said as he stuffed a forkful of pecan pie in his mouth, "She knows I only indulge in the holidays, otherwise I'm always healthy."

"You know about my daily forest puke," He added.

I was amused that he referred to the smoothies as that, Mitchell really was taking a page out of my book – or perhaps a whole chapter.

"Oh yeah," I mumbled, "You do love the taste of puke."

Mitchell dropped the fork on his plate and it only hit me then how bad that sounded, given the circumstances we met under. I meant the smoothie, but he clearly thought I had a double meaning.

"Forrest puke?" Greg thankfully broke the tension between us.

"Those nasty green smoothies," I answered.

Greg laughed, "Nice name, Mila."

"You think that's funny?" Mitchell said, "You should see what she names my –" He abruptly stopped, and I raised an amused brow, daring him to continue.

"My, um, car," Mitchell eventually continued, "She calls her Sadie."

'Good save,'

It took Greg a moment before he understood, "Smart because it's a Mercedes."

I nodded and after a moment of silence I glanced at Greg, "Do you like shrimp, Greg?"

Mitchell who was sipping on wine started choking and I had to do my best not to laugh at his reaction, Greg was clueless, but the look Mitchell gave me told me he knew exactly what I was implying.

"Not a fan of seafood," Greg answered but I didn't pay attention because I was too busy smirking at Mitchell.

After dinner was done, I was so stuffed that I regretted wearing a bodycon dress because I looked like I was four months pregnant but felt like I was in the final trimester. I relaxed on the couch in the living room where Greg, Mitchell, and I were seated.

I rubbed over my tummy and exhaled, I couldn't remember when last I ate that much but everything was so delicious, I couldn't help myself.

Mitchell who was sipping on his favorite whiskey on the rocks chuckled, he looked down at my protruding belly.  He leaned over and placed his hand over it and rubbed gently.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

With his hand still on my stomach, he asked, "Do you know what you're having yet?"

Mitchell thought he was smart, but he still didn't know who he was dealing with; I shot him down almost every time.

I narrowed my eyes and flashed him a tight-lipped smile, "No, I guess we'll only know when you give birth to the kid from your tiny little dickhole."

Mitchell stupid grin dropped, and Greg burst out laughing, he laughed so much his eyes started to tear.

"Laugh as much as you want, asshole," Mitchell sourly spat at his cousin, "You're the one with a step-son that never misses a chance to kick you in the family jewels."

Greg's laughter died down and he scowled at Mitchell, "Low blow, man."

"Tell that to your step-kid," Mitchell retorted.

I was curious, I must've missed something because I had no idea what Mitchell was talking about.

"What?" I said, "I need to know more about this."

Mitchell went on to tell me that the woman Greg was currently dating was a single mother of a five-year-old brat who didn't particularly like him, he always kicked Greg where it hurt the most whenever he had a chance.

I spent the rest of the night laughing with Gregory and Mitchell, Josh's sister joined us, and I found her to be pleasant with a great sense of humor, I quite enjoyed making fun of Mitchell with her. Mitchell feigned annoyance but I could tell that he was amused and enjoying himself.

Time passed and everyone left just before midnight, Mason and Mitchell who indulged in dessert once more were so full and exhausted that they both called it a night just after midnight. I helped Carly clean up, she insisted she could handle it by herself as Greg's mom helped before she left but there was still a bit to do in the kitchen, like pack the dishwasher and store away leftovers.

By the time we were done, I was ready to bid Carly goodnight, but she invited me to the upstairs family room, she pulled out an old photo album and told me to sit next to her.

"Mason told me about the conversation you had with Amber," She started. "I'm sorry on her behalf, she doesn't know about... well the kind of relationship you share with Damien."

"It's alright, I know she doesn't, and she was just curious about an old friend," I spoke.

"How are things between the two of you?" Carly sincerely asked.

I shrugged, "After my mom..." I took in a breath, "He was trying, we grew a tiny bit closer but it's like one step forward and five backward with him."

Carly reached for my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, "I'm sorry."

I shook my head and attempted to smile, "It is what it is."

"Doesn't have to be," Carly said softly, "Damien loves you; I don't doubt that but –"

"I recently found out he wanted me aborted before I was born," I blurted, feeling a lump in my throat, "It was in my mom's journal and every doubt I ever had about being unwanted and a mistake was confirmed."

Carly's eyes softened and she looked at me with hurt in her eyes, "Oh, honey."

"It's okay," I tried to convince her, "I'm alright, you can't force anyone to want or love you. I know he might not feel the same way anymore, but it still cut me deep, and..." I took in a breath, "Makes me feel a lot like an orphan."

Carly scooted over and put an arm around me, giving me a comforting squeeze, "You are not an orphan, don't ever think of yourself like that. You will always have a place in this family, no matter what."

She smiled at me, "You have so easily made your way into our hearts, so I'm afraid to say but you're kind of stuck with us."

"And I don't want you to ever consider