Tears welled in her eyes. “I just…I can’t imagine not having my parents at my wedding. I can’t imagine not trying to make it right.”
He held her tighter. “I know, and I love you for that. I love you for wanting to fix everything. But some things…some things can’t be fixed, I’m not going to let her ruin this. Not for you. Not for me.”
She buried her face in his chest, the scent of him, of home, filling her senses. “Can I… can I try? Just to talk to her? Just to let her know what she’s missing?”
He was silent for a long moment. Then, he nodded, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I don’t think it will change anything. But I love you for trying. Just… promise me you won’t let it ruin this. Promise me you won’t let her take this away from us.”
She pulled back, looking up at him, her eyes searching his. “I promise. I won’t let her take this away from us. I won’t let her take you away from me.”
He kissed her, slow and deep, a promise sealed. “Good. Now go back to sleep. We’ve got a wedding to plan.”
As she drifted off, nestled in his arms, she knew that no matter what happened with his mother, they would face it together. Because that’s what love was. Choosing each other, every single day, even when it hurt.
This needed to be done in person, so she drove. The house was smaller than she expected. A modest, single-story ranch on a quiet street, the paint peeling at the edges, the lawn overgrown, the porch sagging under the weight of neglect. It looked like a place that had stopped breathing a long time ago.
She parked across the street, her hands gripping the steering wheel, her heart pounding. She didn’t want to do this. But she had to. For Breakneck. For the man he was becoming. For the future he deserved.
She got out of the car, the cold air biting at her cheeks, and walked up the cracked concrete path to the front door. She rang the bell and waited.
The door opened a moment later.
Mrs. Gatlin stood there, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock. She was older than Blair expected, her hair thin and gray, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the edge of the doorframe.
“Hi, Mrs. Gatlin,” Blair said, her voice calm, steady, her gaze never wavering. “I’m Blair Brown. I’m in love with your son, and he asked me to marry him.” Mrs. Gatlin flinched, her lips parting, but no sound came out. “I’m here to talk to you about a fight Kelly and I had. It was about you.”
She took a step forward, not waiting for permission to enter. The woman didn’t stop her.
“You see, he doesn’t even want to extend you an invitation, and having your husband attend is a no-go. But I’m not here for Kelly.” She paused, letting the words settle. “I’m here for you.”
Mrs. Gatlin stared at her, her eyes wide, her hands trembling.
“You’re going to miss the man he’s become,” Blair continued, her voice low, deliberate. “The man who carries himself with quiet strength, who laughs with his whole body, who loves with a fierceness that terrifies him because he’s finally learned it’s safe to feel it. You’re going to miss the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that ever made sense in his life. You’re going to miss the way he talks about the future, not with fear, but with hope. With joy.”
She took a step closer, her voice hardening.
“You’re going to miss the wedding. Not the ceremony. Not the flowers or the cake. You’re going to miss the moment he walks down the aisle, his eyes locked on me, his hand trembling just a little, because he’s so damn happy he can’t believe it’s real. You’re going to miss the way he dances with me, not like a warrior, but like a man who’s finally found his rhythm. You’re going to miss the way he laughs when the kids from the academy run up to him, calling him ‘Mr. Kelly,’ and he doesn’t flinch. He kneels down, gets dirt on his knees, and asks them about their day.”
She paused, letting the silence stretch.
“You’re going to miss the life he’s building. The barns he’s reinforcing with his own hands, the fences he’s pounding into the ground because he wants everything to be solid, to last. You’re going to miss the way he talks about the horses, about the way they move, the way they trust him. You’re going to miss the way he looks at the ocean from the dunes, not with longing, but with peace. Because he’s finally found his place.”
Her voice dropped, low and sharp.
“You’re robbing him again, Mrs. Gatlin, and you’re robbing yourself. You’re sitting in this house, surrounded by the ashes of your past, holding onto a bitterness that’s already turned to dust. While you’re doing that, he’s out here, building something beautiful. Something real. Something that will outlast you.”
She didn’t wait for a response.
“I’m not asking you to come. I’m not begging you to change your mind. I’m just telling you what you’re choosing to lose. Because he’s moving on. Without you, and he’s not looking back.”
She turned and walked out of the house, the door clicking shut behind her.
She didn’t look back.
She got into her car, her hands trembling, her heart pounding.
She just breathed, and then she drove away, the house shrinking in her rearview mirror, a monument to a past that had no place in Breakneck’s future.
This was a statement of fact.
