Chapter 45
By the time I got home, the backyard had transformed.
String lights looped from tree to tree, paper lanterns swayed in the summer air, and tables were covered with food that definitely took some planning.
Mom, with her uncanny powers of persuasion, had rallied the neighbourhood, the book club, Judy and Dean Palmer into a makeshift party.
And somehow, impossibly, there was a blown-up poster of my book cover propped against the deck rails.
“Don’t look at me,” Mom said when she caught my expression, her eyes suspiciously shiny. “I just made a few calls. People talk. Word gets around.”
Someone had known before I did. Somehow, the people closest to me had been waiting for this just as much as I had.
Adam showed up carrying a tray of snacks and a bottle of champagne, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. He tipped his chin at me. “You know he’s an idiot, right?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Brody,” Adam said, lowering his voice. “He’s an idiot. But he loves you. So make him grovel a bit.”
Despite myself, I laughed, the sound rough around the edges. “I don’t want to make him do anything,” I said honestly. “I just… want him.”
Adam’s smirk softened into something closer to fondness. “Then you’re already braver than half the people in this town.” He handed me a glass and disappeared into the crowd.
Inside, the air was cooler. Clara was perched on the counter, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. She practically launched herself at me.
“We found a place,” she said in a rush. “Mason and I. We put in an offer today. Just waiting to hear back.”
Her joy was contagious, spreading through me like sunlight. I hugged her tight. “Clara, that’s amazing.”
She pulled back, still beaming. “It feels right. Like home. God, I can’t wait for you to see it.” Then her eyes searched mine, softening. “Do you want to talk about…?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Okay.” She didn’t push. That was the thing about sisters: they knew when to lean in and when to let you stand on your own.
But then a voice came from behind me, low and rough. “Well, I do. I want to talk about it.”
Brody.
Clara’s smile faltered into something cautious. She squeezed my hand once and slipped past him, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
I turned fully, bracing myself. He stood in the doorway, hair a mess like he’d dragged his hands through it too many times. His eyes found mine and stayed there, dark and searching.
We just… looked at each other for a long, taut moment, until someone outside called my name. I almost went. Almost let myself escape into noise and light.
“Wait,” he said quickly.
I stopped. “What, Brody? You said you wanted to talk. You came here.”
He stepped closer, slow like he was approaching something fragile. “I did. I do. I feel like such an ass.”
I stayed quiet, giving him the space to keep going.
“I was blindsided seeing her,” he said, voice thick.
“Angry, too... that she thought she could just walk in like she still had any part of my life. Then I saw you, and I was so happy, so damn relieved… and then she kept talking, needling, and I just… reacted. I wanted to make it clear to her that there’s nothing left.
That she doesn’t matter. And in doing that, I didn’t even see what I was doing to you. ”
His hands raked through his hair again. He looked gutted. “You walked away, and I knew I’d fucked up, but I was still reeling, still...” He broke off, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have treated you or us like that. I’m sorry, Cassidy.”
I studied him, watching the muscles work in his jaw and the tremor in his hands. “Are you this angry at her because you still love her? Because you still have something unresolved?”
He froze, eyes going wide, then shook his head hard.
“No. God, no.” He held himself back, as if he wanted to grab me but knew he had to earn that right.
“Cassidy, I told you, I don’t even know if I ever loved her.
Not like this. Not like you. What I said before is true.
She doesn’t mean anything to me.” His voice broke on the last words. “Not like you do.”
Finally, he stepped closer, almost trembling. “I really am sorry.”
A tear slid hot down my cheek. “Please don’t do that to me again. Don’t weaponize us. Don’t throw around words like marriage just to shove in someone’s face.”
His breath hitched. He moved closer still, hands hovering near my arms, shaking. “I won’t. Cassidy, I swear, I won’t. That wasn’t me. You know that wasn’t me. And I’m sorry for throwing Andrew in your face. That was cruel. I hate myself for it.”
I nodded, swallowing hard.
His voice cracked. “Can I hug you? Please? I need to touch you. To know I didn’t ruin this.”
I closed the last inch myself, pressing my face into his chest, his arms banding around me like he’d been starving for the contact. “You didn’t. People fight. It’ll happen. What matters is how we recover, if we learn, if we do better. That’s what matters.”
His lips brushed the top of my hair, his voice muffled against me. “Cassidy, I lo...”
I pulled back quickly, making sure he saw my eyes. “Don’t. Not right now.”
Confusion flickered across his face. “But you did. You said...”
“I did,” I admitted softly. “And maybe I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. No... I definitely shouldn't have. It slipped, and then it was out there. But that’s not how I wanted the first time to be. And I don’t want your first time saying it to feel like a bandaid after a fight.”
He looked stricken for a second, then softened, pulling me back against him.
“We’re not going to be perfect,” I whispered into his shirt. “Neither of us. We both have baggage. But what matters is not letting it define us. Not letting it hurt what we’re building.”
His hand came up, cupping the back of my head. “I want to say it because it’s true. Because I feel it.”
I tilted up, pressed the gentlest kiss to his lips. “I know. And I feel it too. But let’s save it. Let’s say it when it’s not tangled in old wounds.”
He kissed me again, deeper this time, like a promise. “Are we okay?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “We’re okay. I just need to feel heard. Seen. And I do, with you. Thank you for coming. For apologizing.”
His forehead pressed to mine. “I really am sorry, Cass. And I really do feel it.”
I laced my fingers through his, tugging him toward the door. “Then come on. Let’s go join the party.”
The backyard welcomed us like nothing had ever been wrong, lanterns glowing, voices overlapping, plates clinking, laughter spilling into the summer air.
My mom was already having someone cut the pie, Adam was corralling people into tasting a new beer he wanted to sell at the pub, and Jackson was running barefoot through the grass with a sparkler.
Brody’s hand stayed in mine, solid and sure, and the longer we stood there together, the more I felt the hurt of earlier bleed out of me. We weren’t brittle. We were solid.
Dean Palmer clapped Brody on the shoulder, grinning like he’d known this would happen all along. Judy hugged me, whispering in my ear that she had always known I was meant to be part of her family.
It wasn't like they hadn't known we were dating before this moment. But it was like everyone felt the shift. Knew something had solidified.
Neighbours toasted me with lemonade and wine, the book club demanded a reading at some point, which I swore off immediately, and Clara gave me a wink across the lawn, a secret sister-signal that said 'see, he showed up'.
Brody never let go of me. Not once. If someone stopped me to congratulate me, his hand lingered at the small of my back. And every time I glanced up, his mouth brushed mine, a quick kiss, a soft peck, sometimes just a brush of his nose against my cheek. None of it was showy. All of it was real.
And each touch landed like a promise. More than a kiss, more than a handhold. Like layers being stitched into place, piece by piece, until I could feel it: the us we were building.
At one point, I sank onto the porch steps, the noise and laughter washing around me, and Brody followed without hesitation. He settled behind me, pulling me back against his chest, his chin resting lightly on the crown of my head. I felt his breath in my hair, his heart steady against my spine.
“Better?” he murmured.
I tipped my face up toward him, my smile small but full. “Better.”
He kissed me again, unhurried, right there in front of everyone, and I didn’t care who saw.
Every moment with him tonight felt like more than the one before.
Not an apology. Not a distraction. Just Brody, claiming space in my life the way he’d always fit there, only now we were both brave enough to admit it.
I caught Adam’s smirk from the fire pit with Chase, but even he didn’t tease.
Chase gave me a soft smile and a subtle nod.
Clara leaned her head against Mason’s shoulder, watching with a grin that said she could already see how this chapter of my life would be for me.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself truly settle into this possibility: joy without fear.
Contentment didn’t feel like settling. It felt like safety. It felt like home. And sitting there in the middle of my own celebration, Brody wrapped around me; it felt like the beginning of the rest of everything.