Page 70 of Heart Breaker

“Now, nobody move,” she says, scooting her chair closer. “I’ve been waiting all night to hear the story.”

“Oh, yes.” Mom perks up from her seat. “Grandma should hear this too.”

Within minutes, a small crowd has gathered around us.

“So,” Aunt Karen exclaims, folding her hands in her lap. “Tell us all about the proposal.”

“Oh.” I look at Wes, not expecting that question. From the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting it either. “The proposal story.”

We talked about this with Victoria during one of our media prep sessions, but the reality of telling this made-up story to my family is very different.

Wes’s arm settles across the cushions behind me, and I can see everyone in the room melt a little. His fingers brush over the curve of my shoulder, reassuring me without words that he’s here. My heart beats smoother and my pulse slows. Wes’s touch is a powerful thing.

He clears his throat. “I think that’s your story to tell, Peach, unless you want me to.”

Mom lets out a dramatic sigh. “Peach…if that isn’t the cutest! You two are adorable. I bet it was romantic.”

Over her shoulder, my gaze catches on Harper standing in the kitchen doorway drying her hands on a tea towel. She’s watching me with a smug smile on her face, her expression a mix of sympathy and amusement.

I begin carefully, not wanting to lie to my family. “It was private. It wasn’t an elaborate or over the top event. It was just the two of us.”

I fill in the key details—a surprise dinner date, a quiet patio, the ring. Victoria had advised us to keep it simple. It’s not much, but it seems to be enough to satisfy their curiosity.

Dad smiles from his recliner. My aunt and my grandma listen with big smiles on their faces, and my mother’s hand presses against her heart. “That’s sweet. I bet it was just lovely. We need photos!”

My eyes meet Wes’s as I silently plead with him to step in. If I have to lie to them for much longer, I’m afraid my resolve may crack.

I could kiss him when he rescues me. “No photos, unfortunately,” he tells my mom. “I wish there were.”

“There aren’t any photos?” she echoes.

“It wasn’t exactly planned, Mom.”

Before anyone can ask another question, Harper picks the perfect moment to appear from the kitchen carrying the most beautiful three-tier cake I’ve ever seen.

It’s topped with white buttercream icing and has fresh flowers cascading down one side and tiny gold details painted around the edges. A miniature bride and groom has been placed on top.

“Isn’t it just beautiful?” Harper says as she gently sets the cake down on the edge of the table. She winks at me as if to say, You’re welcome.

“After we ran into you both, I came straight home and ordered it,” Mom says. “I couldn’t resist!”

“It looks like it belongs in a bridal magazine,” Harper says.

Mom looks very pleased with herself as she rises from the couch and circles the table, admiring the flowers from every angle. My aunt and grandma aren’t far behind, debating whether it’s too pretty to cut. Just like that, the interrogation is forgotten. I remind myself to thank Harper for the well-timed interruption.

As the room gathers around the table, Dad plants his hands on the arms of his recliner and begins to push himself up to stand. Wes quietly offers him a hand, letting go as soon as Dad is steady and on his feet.

“Thanks, son.”

“Wouldn’t want you to miss the main event.”

I catch the way Wes pauses, taking a deep breath before nodding toward the cake.

Tears prick my eyes instantly, and I blink them away as I meet Wes at the table. Every time I look at my dad, I find myself wishing things were different. Wishing he wasn’t sick, wishing we had more time, more dinners like this one, more celebrations. I wish this engagement was real for him.

“Pictures first before you cut the cake,” my mom says, interrupting my thoughts.

Right away, one of Wes’s arms settles around my waist, the warmth of him seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. I lean into his side as my mom snaps a few pictures.