Chapter 59 Brianna's Confession
Harper's POV,
Brianna led me to a quiet corner near the fireplace, away from the main crowd but still visible. Her hand rested protectively on her pregnant belly, a gesture that seemed unconscious. Automatic.
She looked at me for a long moment, like she was gathering courage.
"I saw you and Joel on the terrace," she said finally. "I know he asked you to take him back."
My stomach dropped. "Brianna—"
"It's okay. I'm not angry. I'm not even surprised." She laughed, bitter and tired. "Joel's been in love with you this entire time. I've always known that. Even when we got together, even when I got pregnant, even when he proposed. I knew I was the consolation prize."
"Then why are you marrying him?"
"Because I'm twenty-six, seven months pregnant, and terrified of doing this alone. Because my father's in prison and my mother's been crying for three weeks straight and I need something in my life to feel stable." She looked down at her belly. "Because this baby deserves parents who are at least trying to make it work, even if we're failing spectacularly."
I didn't know what to say to that. It was honest in a way that made my chest hurt.
"Joel doesn't love me," Brianna continued. "And I don't love him. Not really. I love the idea of him. The Instagram-perfect life we could have had. The house and the career and the WAG status and all of it." She wiped her eyes carefully, trying not to smudge her makeup. "But that was never real. It was just content. Just performance. And now I'm stuck performing this role for at least the next eighteen years."
"You don't have to marry him. It's not too late to call it off."
"Yes it is. Three hundred people are flying in tomorrow. We've spent seventy thousand dollars on this wedding. My mother's already dealing with enough humiliation from my father's trial. I can't add a cancelled wedding to her plate." Brianna sat down carefully in one of the armchairs, her hand never leaving her stomach. "Besides, what's the alternative? Raise this baby alone while Joel pays child support and dates other people? At least this way she has both parents under one roof."
"Plenty of kids thrive with divorced parents."
"And plenty don't. I should know. My parents hated each other but stayed together 'for the kids.' And look how I turned out." She smiled without humor. "Entitled. Spoiled. Incapable of handling consequences. My father fixed every problem I ever had, so I never learned to fix anything myself. And now he's in prison and I'm pregnant and getting married to someone else's ex-boyfriend, and I have no idea how to function like an actual adult."
I sat down in the chair across from her. "Brianna, you're not as helpless as you think you are."
"Yes I am. You want to know the truth? I slapped you at that party because I was jealous. Not because you were dating Crew. Because you knew how to survive on your own. You lost your job, your apartment, got sued by my father, almost went to prison, and you STILL figured out how to keep going. Meanwhile, I can't even figure out how to order takeout without my assistant's help."
"That's just logistics. You can learn logistics."
"Can I though? I've never had a real job. I've never paid my own bills. I've lived off my father's money my entire life and now that money's frozen because of legal fees. Joel's contract is supporting us both, and I hate that. I hate being dependent on him. I hate that I'm about to become someone's wife when I can barely take care of myself." She looked at me directly. "You won, Harper. Not because you destroyed anything. But because you got out and built something real. I'm jealous of that. So incredibly jealous."
The honesty was startling. Uncomfortable. But also strangely humanizing.
"It's not too late," I said again. "To choose yourself. To call off the wedding. To figure out who you are without Joel or your father or anyone else defining you."
"Maybe. But I'm not as strong as you."
"I'm not that strong. I just didn't have other options. When you lose everything, you either figure it out or you drown. I chose figuring it out."
"See? That's strength. I would have drowned." Brianna shifted in her chair, wincing slightly. "This baby's been kicking all day. Like she knows tomorrow's a big deal and she's protesting the whole thing."
"You keep saying she. Do you know it's a girl?"
"No. We're waiting to find out. But I have this feeling. Mother's intuition or wishful thinking, I'm not sure which." She smiled slightly, and for the first time all evening, it looked genuine. "I want a daughter. Someone I can do better for than my mother did for me. Someone I can teach to be strong and independent and not dependent on men to solve her problems."
"You can still do that. Even if you marry Joel. Even if the marriage doesn't last."
"You think it won't last?"
"Do you?"
She was quiet for a long moment. "No. I think we'll make it two years, maybe three. Long enough for the baby to have some memories of us together. Then we'll divorce amicably and co-parent and I'll post Instagram stories about 'finding myself' and 'prioritizing mental health.' And everyone will comment about how brave I am while secretly judging me for failing at marriage before thirty."
"That's a very specific prediction."
"I've had a lot of time to think about it. Pregnancy insomnia is excellent for catastrophizing your future." She stood up slowly, one hand on the armrest for support. "Harper, I'm sorry. For everything. For slapping you. For letting my father try to destroy you. For being part of the reason your life fell apart. I was selfish and cruel and I didn't think about you as an actual person. Just as an obstacle to what I wanted."
"I know."
"And you still showed up tonight. You still came to my rehearsal dinner even though you had every reason to hate me. Why?"
I thought about it. Really thought about it.
"Because holding onto hate was hurting me more than it was hurting you. And because I wanted to prove to myself that I could be in the same room as you and Joel and feel okay. That I'd actually moved on instead of just pretending to."
"Have you? Moved on?"
"Yes. Completely. Joel asked me to take him back and I said no without even hesitating. That's how I know."
Brianna nodded slowly. "Good. I'm glad. You deserve someone who chooses you first. Even if that someone isn't Joel." She glanced toward our table, where Crew was talking to Todd and very obviously keeping one eye on us. "He's protective of you. Your hockey player."
"His name is Crew."
"Right. Crew. Joel's told me stories about him. How they played together in juniors. How Crew never got drafted because Joel took all the credit for their plays. How he's hated Joel for twelve years because of it." She smiled slightly. "It's very poetic. The ex-girlfriend and the rival teammate both getting their revenge by being happy together."
"It's not revenge anymore. It started that way, but it became real."
"I can tell. The way he looks at you—it's how Joel used to look at you. Before everything got complicated and he forgot what actually mattered." Brianna's eyes got bright. "I'm going to have a baby with a man who looks at his ex-girlfriend the way Crew looks at you. That's my future. That's what I'm signing up for tomorrow."
"Then don't sign up for it. Call it off. I'm serious, Brianna. It's not too late."
"It is though. Not legally. But practically. Emotionally. I'm already too far down this road to turn back." She straightened her dress. "But thank you. For being kind when you didn't have to be. For not gloating. For treating me like a person instead of a villain."
"You're not a villain. You're just a person who made bad choices. We've all been there."
"Some of us make worse choices than others." She extended her hand. "Good luck in Vancouver, Harper. I hope you and Crew build something beautiful."
I shook her hand. "Good luck with the baby. And the marriage. I genuinely hope it works out better than you think it will."
"Me too."
She walked away, back toward her mother and the clusters of relatives still mingling. I watched her go, this complicated woman I'd hated and fought and finally understood.
She wasn't evil. She was just weak in the ways that come from never having to be strong.
And I couldn't hate her for that.
I went back to Crew. He stood immediately, searching my face for signs of distress.
"That looked intense," he said.
"It was. But it's done now. All of it. Joel. Brianna. The whole chapter." I took his hand. "Can we leave? I'm exhausted and I need to get out of this dress and I want to sleep for approximately twelve hours."
"Absolutely. Let's say goodbye to Catherine and get out of here."
We found Catherine near the entrance, saying goodbye to guests who were starting to trickle out. She hugged me warmly.
"Thank you for coming, dear. I know it wasn't easy."
"Thank you for inviting us. It helped more than I expected."
"Good. That was the goal." She looked at Crew. "Take care of her. She's special."
"I know," Crew said. "I'm reminded every day."
We walked out of the hotel into cool Seattle air. The parking garage was quiet, our footsteps echoing.
Crew unlocked the car but didn't get in. He just stood there, looking at me over the roof.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Honestly? Sad. But also relieved. Like I finally closed a door I didn't even realize was still open." I got in the car. "Tomorrow's the wedding. Then we're done. Then we move to Vancouver and start over and none of this matters anymore."
"It'll always matter a little bit. Ten years is a long time."
"I know. But it matters less now. Joel matters less. Even Brianna matters less. They're just people I used to know. People who made choices that hurt me. But I'm not hurt anymore."
Crew started the car. "That's growth, Harper. That's real growth."
"Are you going to therapize every moment tonight?"
"Probably. It's how I process things. You'll get used to it."
We drove back to our hotel in comfortable silence. The city lights blurred past. The Space Needle glowed in the distance. Seattle, the city where I'd lost everything and somehow found myself anyway.
Tomorrow was the wedding. The final performance. The last time I'd see Joel as anything other than my past.
And then Vancouver. Fresh start. New life. Crew and me building something that wasn't revenge or performance or anything except real.