“Chloe did a great job on all of this, don’t you think?” I gesture around the room at the flowers, the lights, the perfectly arranged tables. “The decorations, the setup, the coordination. She’s got an incredible eye for detail. You must be so proud.”
Patricia blinks. “Oh. Yes. Of course.”
But she wasn’t thinking about it. Wasn’t acknowledging it.
Chloe’s contributions are invisible to her own mother.
I feel something crack open in my chest. Protective. Angry.
I shift on my feet, sliding from the easy, comfortable conversationalist to something…harder. Just because we’ve only been “dating” for two weeks doesn’t mean I’m going to let anyone walk all over her. Not my girl.
I’m in the game now.
James Dawson, still wearing that cheery expression, takes a sip of his beer and jumps back to the topic of hockey. “You know, Brody, I know you’ve had a rough season, but you’ve got a tough position to fill. Defense—not an easy job.”
Oh good. Here we go. I brace myself for the usual unsolicited advice. But something in his gaze softens.
“It’s an important position. Lot of responsibility.” He glances at Chloe. “You’ve got to be reliable. Steady. Not too flashy.”
Is he talking about hockey or relationships? I can’t tell.
“I try to be all of those things.”
“Good. Chloe needs someone steady.” He says it like she’s fragile. Breakable. “She’s had a rough go of it lately. Business struggles, you know. Not everyone is cut out for entrepreneurship.”
My jaw tightens. Chloe’s staring at her shoes.
“Actually,” I say, maybe too firmly, “I think Chloe’s business is pretty impressive. Event planning is brutally competitive, and she’s built something from the ground up. That takes guts.”
James looks at me like I just said something mildly interesting but ultimately irrelevant. “Well…she’s had a pretty great example to learn from. Maya’s always been the go-getter in the family.”
And there it is again.
Everything leads back to Maya.
I glance down at Chloe. She’s smiling—the kind of smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. The kind that says I’m fine, I’m used to this, it doesn’t bother me anymore.
Except it does. I can see it in the way she’s holding herself. Small. Invisible.
Her parents drift away to greet other guests, and Chloe exhales like she’s been holding her breath. “Sorry about that,” she mutters. “They’re?—”
“A lot?”
“Enthusiastic about Maya’s wedding.” She’s deflecting. Making it about the wedding instead of admitting her parents barely see her.
I want to tell her They should see you. You’re right here. You’re incredible.
But I can’t. Not here, with everyone watching. And not privately, where too much of my heart would be in it.
So instead, I say, “You should be really proud of what you did here today. They all should.”
She looks up at me, surprised. Like she wasn’t expecting the compliment.
“Thanks.”
And I realize—she’s not used to being seen.
The murmur of the crowd dies down as Derek announces the bowling tournament at four o’clock, and I immediately regret every life choice that led me to this moment.
