Chapter 15 Brody #2
My stomach drops, and all the air leaves my lungs. I open my mouth to deny it, but looking at Maya’s face—not angry, just concerned—breaks something in me.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
All at once, my sister’s hard exterior, that Wonder Woman shell, evaporates. Her expression softens, and suddenly I’m in her arms, wrapped in a tight hug. It’s unfamiliar territory for us. “Oh, hun,” she whispers. “Tell me what’s going on.”
And so I spend the next ten minutes telling her everything.
About our kiss in Barcelona and running into him at Ironclad—how we hadn’t been dating at all when the viral photo was taken—and finally the contract.
But I don’t stop there. The words are pouring from me like I’m parched for the truth.
I tell her about our date—the real one—and the late-night calls, and falling asleep on the couch together, and about the looming breakup that I can’t seem to find a way out of.
“Chloe, you don’t have to do this.” Her grip on my arm tightens. “Forget the contract. Forget the penalties. I’ll help you—Mom and Dad will help you pay whatever you owe—”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not? You’re my sister. You think I’m going to stand here and watch you destroy your own happiness because of some stupid contract you signed when you were desperate?”
“It’s not just about me,” I say quietly. “If I don’t follow through, Brody loses everything too. His contract renewal. His career. Everything he’s worked for.” I grab her hands. “I can’t do that to him. Not when I—” I can’t finish. Can’t say Not when I love him out loud.
“So you’re sacrificing yourself to save his career?” Her voice rises slightly, and she immediately lowers it, glancing around to make sure no one heard. “After he got you into this mess in the first place?”
“It’s not like that. It’s more complicated than the article made it seem. We both agreed to this. We both signed.” I squeeze her hands. “Maya, please. You’ve got to trust me on this. Just…don’t tell anyone. I mean it.” I fix my eyes on hers. “Nobody can know the contract is real. Please.”
She looks at me for a long moment, her eyes shining with tears. Then she nods, pulls me into a hug.
“I hate this,” she whispers. “I hate that you’re hurting and I can’t fix it.”
“You’re helping by letting me do my job. By trusting me.” I pull back, swipe at my eyes. “Now go. Your guests are waiting. And your day is perfect. Let’s keep it that way.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Okay. But, Chloe, if you change your mind, if you need help, you come find me. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of my first dance. You’re more important than any of this.”
She walks away before I can respond, and I’m left standing there, trying not to cry and ruin my makeup.
The ballroom is perfect. Months of planning came together—white and gold everything, centerpieces with winter flowers, pops of Valentine’s red, subtle but sweet, candles, and elegant drapery creating a canopy overhead.
The sweetheart table is centered on the massive windows, the ceremony arch now set up to frame the table behind them, the cake on display, the dance floor open and waiting.
Guests are filing in for dinner. And I’m seated at table three, beside Brody.
Table three includes Conrad Kingston and a woman I recognize from photos I’ve seen online—Penny Pepper, the true-crime podcaster. She’s pretty. Dark hair, brown eyes, and the way Conrad’s hand rests on her back suggests they’re definitely together.
“Nice to finally meet you, Chloe,” Penny says, shaking my hand with genuine warmth. “I’ve heard so much about you…well, about you and Brody. From what I hear, you’ve really brought out a different side of him.”
I try my best to chuckle. Ignore the churning in my stomach.
The other guests at our table—more of Derek’s hockey friends and their dates—are chatting cheerfully, oblivious to the tension.
Dinner is served. Some kind of chicken with roasted vegetables, all the standard wedding food, and I spend the duration of the meal pushing it around on my plate. Brody does the same.
Neither of us is eating.
Neither of us is talking.
Under the table, his knee brushes mine. I don’t move away.
“You two all right?” Conrad asks quietly. He’s watching us with the kind of attention that suggests he knows something’s wrong.
“Fine,” Brody says.
“Great,” I add.
It’s not our best lie. I guess we’re both a little off our game. Conrad exchanges a glance with Penny.
She leans forward slightly. “I’m sorry about that article in Minnesota Bridal.”
My fork clatters against my plate. “You saw that?”
“Everyone saw it,” she says gently. “But for what it’s worth, I believe you guys. Give it some time. In a few days, everyone will forget all about that article.”
I can’t respond. Can’t process the kindness in her voice when I know what’s coming in less than two hours.
The toasts begin while dessert is being served.
The maid of honor goes first with a funny, loving speech about Maya and their friendship and all the adventures they’ve had.
Followed by the best man—one of Derek’s hockey teammates—who makes jokes about Derek’s terrible cooking and worse fashion sense before getting sincere about what a loyal friend and good man he is.
And finally, our dad. His voice is raw as he gets up to speak. He tells stories about Maya as a little girl and how proud he is of the woman she’s become. And then he turns to Derek, charges him with being the kind of man that Maya deserves. Derek stands, taking his hand in a heartwarming exchange.
Then the DJ announces: “Now, as you know, our groom tonight is a member of the Blue Ox”—a chorus of whoops and cheers rattles the floors—“and Derek wanted to give a special opportunity to share this moment with his team. So he’s asked that we open the mic up for a few words from some of the people he’s spent blood, sweat, and years with. ”
Wait, what? I didn’t okay this. It’s just asking for creepy Uncle Austin to take over the mic, drunk, and make really cringy speeches. Nope.
But before I can intervene, Conrad stands. Walks to the microphone with easy confidence.
“I’ve known Derek for a few years now,” he says, “and I can tell you right now, he wasn’t always the man he is today.
When Derek met Maya, we all saw something in him change.
She brings out the best in him.” His gaze flickers to our table for a heartbeat, landing on Brody and me before continuing.
“That’s something I’ve learned in my own life, that love can be terrifying and wild, but when it’s real, true love, it brings out the best in you.
” He lifts his glass. “To Derek and Maya.”
The room applauds. But I catch the look Conrad gives Brody.
Brody’s jaw tightens.
Another teammate goes up—Torch, I think—keeps it brief and funny.
He tells the story of Derek’s first away game after meeting Maya, how the bus broke down on the way home and Derek almost pulled a Planes, Trains and Automobiles to get back to their first date.
Everyone chuckles. He lifts a glass, and then says, “To the kind of love you fight for.”
More applause.
Then Brody stands.
My stomach drops. He’s walking to the microphone. He didn’t tell me he was planning to give a toast. Why is he giving a toast?
He takes the mic. Smiles that easy, charming smile that I know is a mask.
“Hey, everybody, I’m Brody, one of Derek’s teammates.
” The room quiets. Maya is watching him with interest, her hand clutching Derek’s.
“I wasn’t planning to give a speech tonight, but Conrad said something that really stuck with me. Love worth fighting for.”
He glances over his shoulder at the happy couple. “Derek and Maya are one of those couples that make you believe in love,” he says. “The real kind. Not the performance we put on for social media or the version we think we’re supposed to want. But the kind that changes you.”
He’s not reading notes. Just talking, his voice steady and clear.
“See, I’ve been learning something about love lately.
It makes you feel terrified and hopeful at the same time.
It makes you want to be better than you thought you could be.
” His eyes find mine across the room. Hold.
“It sees all your worst parts—the things you try to hide, the flaws you’re ashamed of—and doesn’t run away. ”
I can’t breathe. The entire room is listening, but I feel like he’s talking only to me.
“As some of you might know, I go by another name on the ice. Candy Kane,” he continues, still looking at me.
“That’s the name people gave me because I’m that guy who plays nice with the media, smiles for the cameras, says the right thing.
Polished. Fake.” He shrugs, flashes a smile. “All sugar, if you will.”
That earns a few chuckles from the crowd.
“And maybe that’s who I was. But lately I’ve found someone who makes me want to be more than that.” His voice softens. “Someone who sees the real me—the scared, flawed, imperfect version I try to hide. Someone who sees the dragon underneath the scales. And who loves me anyway.”
Maya is crying. I can see her from the corner of my eye, tears streaming down her face, looking between Brody and me with this expression that’s half hope, half heartbreak.
“That’s how love feels when it’s real,” Brody says.
Still looking at me. Still holding my gaze like we’re the only two people in this room.
“The kind of love that’s worth the risk.
The kind that’s terrifying and raw and changes everything.
The kind that makes you want to be brave enough to be honest. The kind that makes you want to tear down every wall you’ve built and just be… you.”
My vision blurs, tears pricking my eyes.
He’s not making this easy for us.