Chapter 21
The cold didn’t matter.
Not when my chest felt like it had been ripped wide open.
My heels skidded against the frost-covered pavement, breath tearing ragged through the sharp night air.
Music and laughter from the pub bled into the distance behind me until there was nothing left but the frantic beat of my heart pounding in my ears.
My tears felt hot against the freezing wind, but I didn’t bother wiping them away.
My whole body buzzed with shame, anger, heartbreak, a twisting mess I couldn’t untangle fast enough to breathe.
And then...
“Cass.”
His voice. Low. Behind me.
I spun too fast, nearly slipping on the slick cement, bracing myself like I’d have to fight, to scream, to break again, but Brody stopped a few feet away, hands raised like he knew better than to touch me yet.
His jaw was tight, and his hazel eyes looked so much darker than usual under the streetlight, locked on mine, unreadable and unrelenting.
“Don’t,” I rasped, my voice raw and frayed. “Just… don’t.”
He stepped closer anyway, slow and steady, like I was something wild and wounded that might bolt at the first sudden move. “I’m not here to tell you what to do,” he said softly, voice rougher than usual. “I just… I saw you run out. I wasn’t gonna let you face this alone.”
I shook my head, tears spilling faster. “Don’t do that. Don’t be kind right now.” My voice cracked, splintering like glass. “I can’t… I can’t handle it.”
Brody’s throat worked like he swallowed something sharp. “Cass…”
I laughed, short and hollow, wiping at my face with shaking hands that wouldn’t steady.
“You shouldn’t even be here. Not tonight.
Not after this. Not after I ruined Adam’s opening night.
God, Brody, I ruin everything.” My voice climbed, splintering with every word until it snapped entirely.
“And you saw her… You saw her. You saw him. You saw everything.”
“No,” he said simply. “I saw you,”
The words stopped me like a blow. I stood frozen, chest heaving, my heart ricocheting painfully in my ribs.
He closed the distance between us, slow but sure, until the heat of him cut through the bitter cold. “I didn’t see what he made you believe. I didn’t see what she wanted everyone to see.” His gaze softened just enough to break something inside me. “I saw you.”
My breath came uneven, shallow. “Don’t.” My whisper cracked on the wind. “Don’t make me believe you when everything else has been a lie.”
“You think this…” He gestured between us, his hand trembling now, just barely.
“…isn’t real? You think you’re the mistake in all this?
” His voice dropped lower, raw and rough around the edges.
“Cassidy Morgan, I swear to God, I have never, not once, looked at you and seen anything but someone worth the goddamn world.”
I shook my head, choking on tears. “I feel like I’m disappearing, Brody.”
He stepped into my space, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my temple, but he didn’t touch me. Not yet. “Then hold on to me,” he murmured, his voice steadier than mine. “I won’t let you disappear.”
The dam inside me shattered. Any ounce of control I had previously disappeared.
I collapsed into him before I could think better of it, burying my face against his chest. The steady drum of his heartbeat anchored me while the rest of me fell apart.
His arms came around me instantly, strong and sure, one hand cradling the back of my neck like he could hold me together when everything else was unravelling.
“You’re okay,” he whispered against my hair, over and over, as if he said it enough times, maybe I’d believe him.
But I wasn’t okay.
I was choking on memories, every promise Andrew had made, every soft 'I love you', every time he’d sworn there was no one else. And now Victoria’s calculating, knowing eyes haunted me. Her bump. Their son’s face. A whole life he’d kept from me while carving pieces out of mine in secret.
Brody pulled back just enough to see me, brushing his thumb across the wet track of a tear on my cheek. His voice was low, steady, and deliberate. “He doesn’t get to take this from you, Cass. Not who you are. Not what you deserve.”
Something about the way he said it, like it wasn’t up for debate, like it was fact, absolute and unshakable, cracked me open all over again.
And then Chase’s voice cut through the night, low but careful. “Brody.”
We both turned to see him standing a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp with quiet understanding.
“My truck’s right there,” he said softly, nodding toward the street. “I’ll take her home. You should stay with Adam, help him close out the night. We’ll handle the rest later.”
Brody hesitated, his hand still on my arm, his thumb brushing over my sleeve like he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. His jaw clenched, like there was something more he wanted to say, something he couldn’t.
“Brody,” Chase said again, gentler this time.
Finally, Brody exhaled, a rough, uneven sound, and gave a single reluctant nod. His gaze held mine for a long moment, unspoken words passing between us, before he stepped back and let Chase guide me toward the truck.
The cab was warm, the low hum of the heater filling the silence. I stared out the window, watching streetlights smear into blurry streaks of gold, my reflection pale and hollow in the glass. My chest felt too tight, like there wasn’t enough air.
Chase didn’t speak at first, and when he did, his voice was quiet, almost careful.
“You know,” he said after a long pause, “Mom’s threatening to go full scorched earth on Victoria. Told Dad she’d wait until after the baby’s born, but…” He let out a low chuckle. “You know, Mom.”
I almost laughed. Almost. But the sound caught somewhere in my throat, tangled up with everything else that hurt too much.
Chase glanced at me, his expression softening when he saw I wasn’t biting. “We’ve got you, Cass,” he said simply. “You don’t have to fight this alone. Not anymore.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let those words sink in and take root. But all I could feel was the weight of every stare in the pub, every whisper of homewrecker and whore clawing at my skin. I couldn’t make myself believe it, not when everything inside me felt fractured beyond repair.
I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, closing my eyes.
If I could just make it to Christmas, maybe then I could come home and regroup. Maybe then I could breathe. Maybe then I could remember who I was before all of this.