10. Maxine
CHAPTER 10
maxine
T he car ride home from the wedding felt like sitting next to a live wire—dangerous, unpredictable, and humming with suppressed emotions." Brooklyn glanced over, her grin sharp enough to cut glass. "Well, that was a ceremony for the books."
I snorted. "Rom-com plot twist nobody asked for."
"Only missed the dramatic objection," she quipped. "Like, 'stop! I'm her long-lost twin!’"
"I'd have preferred the twin," I muttered. "At least that'd be interesting."
Her laugh faded and was replaced by something more serious. "You holding up okay?"
The truth caught in my throat. It had only been one year since we buried my dad. Now, we were watching her dad marry my mom. Who was also her dad’s business partner.
Talk about emotional whiplash.
"Buttercream is my current emotional-support system," I deflected.
"Small wins," Brooklyn agreed, her hand briefly touching my arm.
Later that evening, I found Sebastian in the barn, brushing down a horse with methodical movements that seemed to hide more than they revealed.
"You've been quiet," I said, leaning against the stall.
He didn't look up. "Nothing I can't handle."
I rolled my eyes. "Try again. Without the generic tough-guy routine."
Something shifted in his posture—a tension that hadn't been there moments before. "Max, if there was something you needed to know, something that could change everything... would you want to hear it?"
My heart did a strange little flip. "That's not cryptic at all."
"Would you?"
"Always."
He paused mid-brush. "Good to know."
Later that night, I discovered a photo tucked inside my album. It was of my father, Carlos, standing with Ciara and David, dated just a week before his accident. Something felt off. Something felt wrong .
I clutched the photo, my mind racing with questions. What Sebastian asked me in the barn had only intensified my whirling thoughts. What had my father been doing with them? And more importantly—what was it that no one was telling me?