39. Katy
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
katy
OUR PEOPLE
My phone rings while I’m still staring at my left hand. The ring catches the light every time I move, like it’s reminding me it’s real. Like this actually happened.
I almost smile when I see the caller ID. My mom must have heard. Maybe she’s finally happy for me. For us.
I answer on the second ring, already warm with anticipation. “Hi.”
“Katy, hi. We heard you got engaged,” she starts.
Relief rushes through me. “Yeah—”
“Okay. We set up a meeting with our lawyers, you need a prenup.”
The word lands hard and abrupt. I blink. “I—what?”
My dad’s voice joins in, calm and measured. “Ben’s about to be drafted, so that changes things. But you’re worth hundreds of millions, Katherine. You need to make sure you protect yourself.”
I wait. For a congratulations. For a we’re happy for you. For literally anything that sounds like joy.
But nothing comes.
“This is when people get taken advantage of,” my mom continues. “We just want you protected.”
Protected.
From him. The man who’s protected me for the last eight months.
I glance down at the ring again. At the diamond Ben slid onto my finger with shaking hands.
“Ben isn’t taking advantage of me.” My voice stays steady.
“That’s not the point,” my mom replies. “Love makes people blind. And he’s a football player, you know how they are. He could get injured any day, then what other prospects would he have? Honestly, Katherine. You’re a very good backup plan. I’m sure that’s how he’s looking at this.”
My chest tightens. “He is the father of my child,” I say in measured tones. “And he asked me to marry him because he loves me. Not because of money. If he wanted an easy life, he would’ve left the second I told him I was pregnant.”
My dad sighs. “You’re being emotional right now.”
That’s when it clicks. They’re not really worried; they’re not being careful. They just have never trusted my choices. They just want control.
“I didn’t take the call to talk about legal documents.” I tighten my grip on the phone. “I thought you were calling to congratulate me.”
There’s a pause.
“Well,” my mom says, “we can do both.”
They can say whatever they want about me. They always have. But they don’t get to touch him. “Ben has been there for me every step of the way. He was there when you abandoned me. I don’t want to hear one more word from you about him. Ever.”
I’m done explaining, done hoping. Just done.
“Don’t call me again. If there’s something you need to talk to me regarding Montgomery Corporation, you can call my lawyers.”
“Kath—” I hear my dad start, but I hang up.
I sit there for a long minute after, the phone still warm in my hand.
They didn’t ask how he proposed.
They didn’t ask if I was happy.
They didn’t even ask about my son. Their grandson.
I exhale slowly.
Then I place my phone face down on the table, rest my hand over my ring, and make a decision that feels quieter, but stronger, than anything I’ve done before.
Some people don’t get to be part of your joy.
Ben clocks it immediately. He’s always been able to read me.
I’m still sitting at the table when he comes back into the room, his towel slung over his shoulder, and his hair damp from the shower. I look fine on the surface—there’s no tears—but something must give me away.
He slows.
“What happened?” he asks softly.
I glance up. “Nothing.”
He doesn’t buy it. He crosses the room and sits across from me, close but not crowding, forearms resting on the table. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
I swallow. “My parents called.”
His jaw tightens just a fraction. “Okay.”
“They heard we’re engaged.”
He waits patiently until I get it all out.
“They think I should get a prenup.”
The silence that follows is heavy, but not sharp.
Ben exhales slowly. “Katy. We should definitely get a prenup. I’m happy to sign whatever you want. I hope you know that.”
“I do.”
“Did they say congratulations?”
I shake my head. An understanding fills his eyes.
“They did say they’re worried about me,” I add, trying to explain it like it makes sense.
He leans back slightly, gaze steady on mine.
“And what do you think?” he asks quietly.
That’s when my throat tightens. “I thought they were calling because they were happy for me,” I admit. “And instead, it felt like… like they took some of the joy away.”
Ben reaches across the table and takes my hand, thumb brushing over my ring.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Let’s try to get it back. If you want a prenup, we’ll talk about it. You, me, and your lawyer. But for now, let’s enjoy this.”
I blink. “You’re not offended?”
“I’m offended on your behalf.”
A weak laugh escapes me. “Of course you are.”
He squeezes my hand. “But I don’t want you making decisions because someone scared you. I want you choosing because you talked to a lawyer and you understand what protects you best. And I want you to ask for whatever you need to feel safe.”
I nod, eyes burning. “I do feel safe. With you.”
He leans in and presses his forehead to mine. “Good. That’s all I care about.”
I let myself breathe, the weight of the call finally loosening its grip.
“I don’t think I want them at the wedding,” I say quietly. “They’ll steal the joy there too.”
Ben doesn’t hesitate. “Okay.”
“I want the people who showed up for me, for us,” I continue. “Who were there when things were hard. Not people who only make me feel bad about myself.”
Ben nods once. “Then that’s who we’ll have.”
His thumb traces a slow circle over my knuckle, grounding.
“You have so many people that love you, Katy,” he adds. “You don’t need them there.”
I rest my head against his shoulder, the ring cool and solid against my skin.
“I know.” And I do.
The second we pull into the driveway, something feels… off. The house seems too quiet. There are no lights in the windows, no movement anywhere. There’s no Danny losing his mind at the sound of the car.
I glance at Ben. “Why is it so quiet?”
He shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression. Suspicious.
“You don’t think they’re out—”
We barely make it onto the porch before the front door flies open.
“DON’T MOVE.”
I freeze.
Ben laughs under his breath. “Oh no.”
Before I can process anything—
POP.
Champagne explodes everywhere. Cold, fizzy, and chaotic.
I gasp as Ella shrieks, already drenched, shaking the bottle like she’s won a championship.
“Congratulations!”
Rebecca is right behind her, somehow louder, holding a second bottle. “This is the best news ever!” she screams, already spraying us again.
“What is happening—” I choke, laughing as I try to shield my face.
“Welcome home, fiancés!” Ella yells.
“I’m so happy for you, kids,” Grandma Patty says, a tear in her eye. She steps out behind Ella and Rebecca, and then I see my baby boy. Mini Ben is completely unfazed, tucked against his great-grandmother.
Everything else fades for a second.
“Hi baby, I missed you,” I breathe.
“Wait! Let me try to dry you off before you hold him,” Ella says as she runs inside to get a kitchen towel.
Once I don’t have as much champagne all over, I move toward him immediately, taking him carefully, pressing my face into his soft little head. His smell. His warmth. Home.
Ben’s right there a second later, one hand settling at my back, the other brushing gently over our son’s head like it’s second nature.
Then I see the house, and it looks… insane.
There are streamers, balloons, and even a banner that says FINALLY in giant letters—thank you, Ella and Bex. All of our friends and the family that matters. There’s music blasting.
I laugh, shaking my head. “This is aggressive.”
“This is love,” Rebecca corrects, pointing dramatically.
“You like it?” Ella asks, already grabbing my hand carefully because baby, and dragging me inside.
“Like it?” I laugh. “You threw a whole party for us!”
“Obviously,” Rebecca says. “You got engaged. What were we supposed to do, send a text?”
I look around at the chaos, the laughter, at all the people who showed up without hesitation. Who didn’t need to be told to celebrate us.
At our son in my arms.
At Ben beside me looking at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen.
“Yeah.” I smile. “This is perfect.”
Declan is suddenly there, pulling me into a hug that’s a little too tight.
“I’m happy for you,” he mutters stiffly. Then he turns to Ben and gives him one of those aggressive, half-threatening man hugs. “Don’t screw this up.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Ben grins. I think he’s used to the threats by now.
Caroline and James are next, pulling both of us in, careful of the baby.
“We’re so happy for you.” Caroline squeezes my arm.
“And proud of you,” James adds.
Their words land soft and loving.
Rebecca suddenly appears in front of us with two glasses. “Okay! Speech! Or kiss! Preferably kiss!”
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Ella starts chanting immediately.
“Absolutely not—” I start.
But it’s too late. Ben’s already smiling, one hand sliding to my waist, the other steady at our son’s back as he leans in. My cheeks are on fire.
“You don’t want to disappoint them,” he murmurs.
“Oh my God.”
He kisses me anyway, and the entire room erupts with cheers and whistles.
Mini Ben makes a tiny noise between us like he has thoughts about this.
I laugh against Ben’s mouth. “Okay, okay. We’re traumatizing our child.”
“He’ll survive,” Ben murmurs.
When we pull apart, I’m laughing, breathless, still a little sticky from champagne, and completely overwhelmed. In the best way.
“Okay.” I shake my head. “This is ridiculous.”
“A little bit,” Grandma Patty says, raising her glass. “And we’re just getting started.”
I look around one more time.
Some people don’t get to be part of your joy.
But the right ones?
They don’t just share it—they make it theirs too.