I took another step back, chest aching.“I just found out my book has a release date.I should be celebrating.I’m going to go do that.”
His mouth opened, closed, anguish flickering across his face.He looked like a man trying to hold the tide back with his bare hands.
I turned away before I could be swayed by it, the humidity pressing in hot and heavy, my heart hurting and steady all at once.
Because I had told the truth, I had spoken my love, and I had spoken my hurt.And if he was the man I believed him to be, he would hear both.
Chapter 45
By the time I got home, the backyard had transformed.String lights looped from tree to tree, paper lanterns swayed in the summer air, and tables were covered with food that definitely took some planning.Mom, with her uncanny powers of persuasion, had rallied the neighbourhood, the book club, Judy and Dean Palmer into a makeshift party.
And somehow, impossibly, there was a blown-up poster of my book cover propped against the deck rails.
“Don’t look at me,” Mom said when she caught my expression, her eyes suspiciously shiny.“I just made a few calls.People talk.Word gets around.”
Someone had known before I did.Somehow, the people closest to me had been waiting for this just as much as I had.
Adam showed up carrying a tray of snacks and a bottle of champagne, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.He tipped his chin at me.“You know he’s an idiot, right?”
I blinked.“Excuse me?”
“Brody,” Adam said, lowering his voice.“He’s an idiot.But he loves you.So make him grovel a bit.”
Despite myself, I laughed, the sound rough around the edges.“I don’t want to make him do anything,” I said honestly.“I just… want him.”
Adam’s smirk softened into something closer to fondness.“Then you’re already braver than half the people in this town.”He handed me a glass and disappeared into the crowd.
Inside, the air was cooler.Clara was perched on the counter, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.She practically launched herself at me.
“We found a place,” she said in a rush.“Mason and I.We put in an offer today.Just waiting to hear back.”
Her joy was contagious, spreading through me like sunlight.I hugged her tight.“Clara, that’s amazing.”
She pulled back, still beaming.“It feels right.Like home.God, I can’t wait for you to see it.”Then her eyes searched mine, softening.“Do you want to talk about…?”
I shook my head.“No.”
“Okay.”She didn’t push.That was the thing about sisters: they knew when to lean in and when to let you stand on your own.
But then a voice came from behind me, low and rough.“Well, I do.I want to talk about it.”
Brody.
Clara’s smile faltered into something cautious.She squeezed my hand once and slipped past him, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
I turned fully, bracing myself.He stood in the doorway, hair a mess like he’d dragged his hands through it too many times.His eyes found mine and stayed there, dark and searching.
We just… looked at each other for a long, taut moment, until someone outside called my name.I almost went.Almost let myself escape into noise and light.
“Wait,” he said quickly.
I stopped.“What, Brody?You said you wanted to talk.You came here.”
He stepped closer, slow like he was approaching something fragile.“I did.I do.I feel like such an ass.”
I stayed quiet, giving him the space to keep going.
“I was blindsided seeing her,” he said, voice thick.“Angry, too...that she thought she could just walk in like she still had any part of my life.Then I saw you, and I was so happy, so damn relieved… and then she kept talking, needling, and I just… reacted.I wanted to make it clear to her that there’s nothing left.That she doesn’t matter.And in doing that, I didn’t even see what I was doing to you.”
