Time stops. The world narrows to just this—his mouth on mine, his hands holding me like I’m something precious and breakable and worth fighting for. The hallway disappears. The reception disappears. Everything disappears except the feeling of being completely, devastatingly in love with someone you’re about to lose.
When we finally break apart, it’s only because we need air. His forehead drops to mine. We’re both breathing hard, shaking slightly, neither of us willing to create more distance than absolutely necessary.
“Chloe,” he whispers against my lips, but it’s sad. Like a broken promise. Like an apology.
His thumb traces my cheekbone, gentle now, reverent. I can feel him trembling. Or maybe that’s me.
“Yowza.” We both freeze, still tangled together, as Penny comes down the hallway—out of the restroom, clearly. “Well, that’s the most real kiss I’ve ever seen.”
Oh.
And we’re guilty. Brody’s hands in my hair, mine gripping his jacket, both of us flushed and breathing hard and clearly having just been thoroughly kissing.
She smiles as she walks past us, heading back toward the ballroom, and throws over her shoulder, “Whatever that article says? It’s wrong.”
The door to the ballroom closes behind her.
Brody and I are still frozen, staring at each other. The interruption broke whatever spell we were under. Reality is creeping back in—the contract, the consequences, the impossible choice.
“Brody?” My voice is small. Scared.
He takes a breath. Steps back. Creates distance that feels like miles even though it’s only inches.
And then he says the words that shatter everything. “You have to break up with me.”
sixteen
brody
The words hangin the air between us.
“What?” Her voice is small. Broken.
“You have to break it off. Now.” I step back—creating distance that feels like miles.
Chloe blinks at me, eyes watery and brimming. “No.”
“Chloe—”
“You just told me you love me.” Her voice cracks, and I die a little inside. “I’m not going to break up with you just because some contract says I’m supposed to.”
She walks away from me, back toward the reception hall doors.
“Chloe, wait?—”
But she’s already gone, disappearing through the doors into the reception.
I stand there for a moment, alone in the hallway. The ghost of our kiss still lingering in the air. The weight of what I’m about to do crushing my chest.
Then I follow her.
The reception is in full swing when I walk back in. Music playing, guests laughing, fairy lights overhead makingeverything look soft and romantic. Maya and Derek’s perfect wedding, exactly as planned.
Chloe is across the room, talking to a waiter near the dessert table. She’s gesturing to the cake station, pointing at something, her coordinator persona firmly in place.
But I can see the tension in her shoulders. The way she’s not quite looking at anyone. The slight tremor in her hands.
I watch as she tells the waiter something about the chocolate fountain running low. He nods, hurries away. She turns to adjust a napkin display that doesn’t need adjusting.
