When everything came crashing down, it didn’t feel real at first. One second Belly was walking toward the future she thought she wanted, and the next—Conrad had said the words that shattered it all.

He loved her. He always had.

The reception room turned into a storm. Jeremiah left so fast you barely saw his face, only the flash of betrayal in his eyes. Laurel was seething, pacing as if Conrad’s confession had been a personal insult to her. Steven was red with anger, muttering things like “he always has to ruin everything.” Even Taylor, usually the dramatic one, just stared wide-eyed, whispering “what the hell, Conrad?”

And Belly? Belly cried.

You stood back for most of it, watching as the family you loved fell apart piece by piece. You should’ve been angry too. By all accounts, you should’ve hated Conrad for blowing everything up at the last second. But you didn’t.

Because deep down, you understood.

⸻

That night, Belly locked herself in her room. You sat outside her door, knees pulled to your chest, listening to her muffled sobs. Steven stormed past, grumbling about punching Conrad. Laurel kept saying over and over that Belly deserved stability, not “this chaos.”

Nobody noticed when you slipped out.

You found Conrad on the porch, sitting alone with his head in his hands. He didn’t even look up when you stepped out.

“I know,” he said quietly. “You hate me too.”

For a long moment, you didn’t answer. The sound of the ocean filled the silence, waves pulling back and forth like they had every summer of your lives. Finally, you sat beside him.

“I don’t,” you said.

He turned to you, startled. His eyes were tired, guilty, but also—relieved. Like someone finally saw him.