Chapter 4
FOUR
brODY
Note to self: don’t kiss your best friend’s little sister the night before his wedding.
I’m standing in the groom suite, staring at my tie like it has personally offended me, while Tony laughs at something Al just said across the room.
The space is too nice for what I’m used to.
Soft lighting, clean windows, the city stretched out beyond the glass like it has nothing to do with what’s happening inside it.
Chuck is lounging on the arm of the couch like he was born there, which is irritatingly consistent with how he exists in every space.
Al is already fully dressed, quiet in a way that reads more like observation than calm.
Tony is somewhere between the two, half humor, half nerves, trying not to feel the weight of what today actually is.
I should be in that headspace too.
Instead, I’m thinking about last night.
The terrace. The way Cari looked at me like I’d been the one holding everything back instead of both of us. The way I finally stopped pretending distance was the same thing as control.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Tony says, tightening his cufflinks.
“I’m not thinking at all,” I answer.
Chuck snorts. “That’s worse. That’s instinct thinking.”
I glance at him. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is if you’re you,” he says.
Al looks up from his phone for the first time. “He’s not wrong.”
I exhale slowly. “Appreciate the support.”
Tony finishes adjusting his sleeves and looks between us. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I say immediately.
Al scoffs. “That was too fast.”
“I don’t have anything to be not good about,” I add.
Chuck makes a low sound of disbelief. “That’s definitely worse.”
Tony pauses, then frowns. “You’ve been off since last night.”
“I haven’t been off.”
“That’s what you said last time you were off,” Chuck says.
I turn toward him. “You don’t know me well enough to keep a record.”
“I’ve known you long enough to see patterns,” he replies easily.
Al’s voice is quieter when he speaks again. “This isn’t about the wedding, is it.”
It isn’t a question.
Tony stops moving entirely. “What does that mean?”
Chuck answers before I can. “It means our emotionally stable best man has been emotionally unstable since dinner last night.”
Tony looks at me now. Really looks. “Brody?”
I should shut this down. I don’t.
“No.”
Al exhales through his nose like that confirms everything he already suspected. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Tony’s expression tightens. “No. No, don’t do that. Don’t start something and then not explain it. What is this?”
Chuck tilts his head, enjoying this far too much. “You’re about to hate this.”
Tony ignores him. “Brody.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “It’s not what you think.”
Tony immediately lifts a hand. “Stop. Don’t say that to me.”
Al steps closer now, voice lower. “Is it Cari?”
Silence follows too quickly.
They’ve noticed. How could they not? We’ve only been circling each other for years.
Tony goes still in a way that sharpens everything in the room. “My sister. My baby sister.”
He doesn’t say it like a question.
He says it like a boundary.
“I’m not doing anything to her,” I say immediately.
“That’s not what I asked,” Tony replies.
Chuck mutters, “This is going exactly how I expected.”
Al doesn’t look away from me. “Brody.”
“I’m not—” I start.
Tony cuts in sharply. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
The words hang there for a second before he adds, quieter but no less firm, “Or this. Or whatever this turns into.”
Al steps closer to him, steadying him more than me. “We deal with it after the ceremony.”
Tony doesn’t respond. He’s already looking away like he needs distance just to keep moving forward.
A knock comes at the door before anything else can happen.
A coordinator pokes her head in. “We’re ready for you downstairs in ten.”
Tony immediately straightens, snapping into motion like he can outrun the conversation by avoiding it. “Perfect. Let’s go.”
We follow him out. The hallway outside is already alive with guests moving toward the ceremony space. Laughter echoes faintly down the corridor. Footsteps overlap. Everything feels like it’s narrowing toward a single moment.
And then it happens.
We pass the open edge of the lobby, and Tony stops in his tracks.
Because she’s there.
Viv.
Standing just beyond the ceremony entrance. In her wedding dress.
And the world shifts.
There’s no noise for a second. No movement. Just him seeing her like he’s never actually allowed himself to imagine this part clearly before now.
She looks up at the exact moment he does.
And whatever he was about to say disappears.
The expression on his face changes first—confusion giving way to something rawer, quieter, like the idea of the day finally becomes real all at once instead of in pieces.
He doesn’t move forward. Doesn’t speak. Just stands there like his body forgot how to catch up with what his eyes just confirmed.
Viv smiles at him, small, certain.
Tony doesn’t move at first.
It’s like he’s afraid that if he does, something about the moment will break open too fast to control. His hands flex at his sides once, like his body is trying to find an instruction his brain hasn’t given yet.
Then he exhales.
Long. Quiet. Completely undone in a way he would absolutely hate if he had the presence of mind to be self-conscious about it.
“Yeah,” he says under his breath, almost like he’s testing the word. “Okay.”
Al watches him with something like reluctant understanding, the kind that comes from knowing exactly what it feels like when your entire life narrows down to one person standing in front of you.
Chuck, for once, doesn’t say anything.
Tony finally moves forward, like gravity has stopped negotiating with him.
Viv’s smile widens when she sees him coming closer, and she takes a small step toward him without hesitation, like she’s been waiting in that exact posture her whole life without realizing it.
The distance between them closes in uneven pieces—Tony still not quite believing this is allowed to happen in real time, Viv completely certain that it is.
He stops just short of her.
Looks at her like he’s trying to memorize something that won’t stay still.
“You didn’t tell me it would feel like this,” he says quietly.
Viv lets out a soft laugh. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
That gets something out of him—something small but real. The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to break completely in front of everyone.
He shakes his head once.
“You’re going to ruin me today.”
Her smile widens. “That’s the plan.”
Tony laughs once, sharp and disbelieving, and finally reaches for her—careful at first, like he’s still afraid she might disappear if he moves wrong.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she steps into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
His forehead drops briefly toward hers.
Just a pause. A shared breath that steadies both of them in the middle of everything else moving around them.
Behind them, the ceremony space is still filling. Guests drifting in, voices lowering, the world rearranging itself into expectation.
And behind me, I feel Al shift slightly, arms folding in a way that says he’s watching all of it but not interrupting it for anything.
Chuck leans back against the wall, unusually quiet now, like even he understands there are moments you don’t step into.
My attention drifts past them.
Because Cari is still there.
Not off to the side anymore.
She’s dressed for the wedding in a way that makes it impossible not to notice her, even if you try not to.
Her dress is simple and fitted, the kind that shouldn’t compete with a wedding but somehow still holds its own.
Her hair is pinned up loosely, a few strands falling free around her face and neck, catching the light when she turns her head.
She looks beautiful in a way that isn’t loud about itself, which somehow makes it worse.
She’s closer now than she was before, having moved with the flow of people without fully joining it, like she ended up exactly where she intended to be.
Her eyes are on Tony and Viv. There’s something steady in her expression—like she’s holding the emotional weight of it with them instead of just watching it happen.
She looks… grounded.
Not distracted. Not teasing.
She’s present in a way that feels deliberate. Then her gaze shifts. It catches mine, then holds. Not long enough for anyone else to notice.
There’s nothing playful in it. Nothing uncertain. Just a quiet awareness of everything that’s been left unsaid between us since last night, carried cleanly through the noise of the morning without needing to be spoken aloud.
Then she looks away first.
Back to her brother.
Back to Viv.
Like she’s giving them the space she knows they need.
Tony finally pulls back just enough to look at Viv properly again, still close enough that neither of them seems interested in creating distance.
“Okay,” he says again, quieter this time, like he’s accepting something bigger than himself. “Okay. I’m here.”
Viv nods once.
“I know,” she says.
And for a moment, nobody moves.
Not because anything is wrong.
Because for the first time all morning, everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be—and everyone is aware of it.