Semua Bab ENEMIES TO LOVERS: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Brielle didn’t know how long she’d been sitting in her parked car outside his driveway. Minutes. Hours. Time had dissolved into one dull throb of heartbreak. The porch light was still on, swaying in the wind. The spot where she saw Kayla grab him. Where she saw Kayla’s mouth on his. Where her world had tilted and crashed all at once. And now Jaxon was inside the house. Waiting. Hoping. Because she’d sent him a text. Can we talk? A simple sentence, but one that felt like dragging a boulder onto her chest. Her hands shook on the wheel. She forced herself to breathe. She could leave. She could pretend she never sent the message. She could crumble under the weight of everything Kayla had thrown at them. But no. Running solved nothing. Avoidance only watered fears until they grew uncontrollable. So Brielle opened the door, stepped out into the cool night air, and walked toward the house. Her heart hammered louder with every step. When she reached the door, she didn’t

The drive back from the lake felt strangely peaceful—like the storm that had ripped both their hearts open had finally begun to settle. Brielle’s hand rested in Jaxon’s, their fingers laced together across the console. Neither spoke much. They didn’t need to. The quiet between them wasn’t avoidance anymore; it was understanding. Healing. A space where everything broken had begun knitting itself back together. When they pulled into his driveway, the late afternoon sun slanted golden across the front porch the same porch where everything had shattered just a night ago. Brielle felt a small jolt of pain at the memory, but it didn’t overwhelm her this time. Jaxon squeezed her hand, reading her reaction instantly. “We’re rewriting what that porch means,” he said softly. “Starting now.” Her chest tightened not with hurt, but with love so fierce it made her eyes burn. Inside, the house was warm and quiet. A soft breeze drifted through the cracked window, carrying the smell of pine. Brie

The afternoon sunlight spilled across Willow Creek like it had been painted there just for the occasion. Colorful banners fluttered on Main Street, streamers draped across the café courtyard, and tables were lined with flowers, candles, and trays of every dessert the townspeople could bake. It wasn’t a festival. It wasn’t even a town meeting. It was something far more emotional for Brielle and Jaxon: their engagement party—planned in secret by both of their mothers, who had apparently joined forces with terrifying efficiency. Brielle stood at the entrance of the courtyard, stunned. “Mom… you did all this?” she asked, looking from the decorations to the crowd gathering with warm smiles and excited whispers. Her mom beamed with pride. “Of course I did. Well… with a little help.” Jaxon’s mom stepped beside her, giving Brielle a gentle hug. “A celebration was overdue. After everything you two survived? The whole town wanted to lift you up.” Jaxon slipped his hand into Brielle’s,

month slipped by like a soft, steady breeze, quiet, warm, full of moments that made Brielle’s heart feel too full and too steady all at once. And somehow, every day she woke beside Jaxon, she found herself falling deeper, as if loving him was something her soul remembered how to do before she ever realized she was doing it. The wedding was only four weeks away. Willow Creek buzzed with excitement every day someone stopped them in town to ask about colors, flowers, cakes, guest lists. Brielle tried not to blush at how quickly the entire community had become invested in their future. But Jaxon? He accepted every congratulations with a hand around her waist and a smile that could melt the pavement. In truth, she loved it. Not because of the attention, she hated too much attention but because every time someone mentioned the wedding, Jaxon squeezed her hand or kissed her temple or whispered something sweet near her ear. He made it real. He made it safe. He made forever sound simple

The morning of their wedding arrived softly like the world itself was afraid to breathe too loudly. Sunlight slid gently through Brielle’s curtains, warm and golden, brushing her cheek before she opened her eyes. For a moment she didn’t move. She lay still in her childhood bedroom, wrapped in quiet, wrapped in nostalgia… wrapped in the sweetest, most overwhelming realization of her life: She was getting married today. Her heart fluttered. Not with fear. Not with nerves. But with a joy so full it felt like her ribs were struggling to contain it. She smiled into her pillow, then rolled slowly onto her back, letting the morning sink into her skin. She could still feel Jaxon from the night before his kiss on her forehead before he left the rehearsal dinner, the way he held her hands a little too tightly as if letting go even for twelve hours felt impossible. His voice echoed in her memory: “Tomorrow, Brie, you’re officially mine. And I’m yours. I’ve waited too damn long for this.