Page 53 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
Dad stood up, brushing nonexistent crumbs off his vest. He adjusted his glasses—which he didn’t need but insisted on wearing because theymade him look more emotionally available.
He cleared his throat and held up his glass. “Most of you know me,” he began. “I’m Henry McCloud. Father of the groom. Grand slayer of bad jokes. Provider of donuts and unsolicited life advice.”
Laughter rippled through the tables. Henry looked at me, then at Ella, and the grin softened into something almost too tender to look at head-on. “I’ve known Patrick a long time, you’d hope so—I was there when he was born. But even before that, I knew the kind of man he could be. Smart. Loyal. Stubborn as a grizzly. And when he fell in love with Ella Meade in high school, I thought,well, that’s it. He’s found her.”
I saw Ella blink fast. I squeezed her hand again.
“But life,” Henry went on, “isn’t a straight line. Sometimes it’s a forest path. Sometimes it’s a cliff. And sometimes it’s a damn maze made of regrets and learning the hard way.”
He looked directly at me. “I watched my son fight through that maze. I watched him come back stronger. Kinder. More of a man than I could’ve ever hoped for.”
Then he turned to Ella. “And I watched this incredible woman—this force of nature—take him back. Not because she had to. But because she loved him enough to try again. And that, right there, is the kind of love most people spend their lives looking for.”
He lifted his glass. “To Ella and Patrick. May your life together be full of laughter, full of forgiveness, and just a little bit of chaos. Because that’s where the good stuff happens.”
The room erupted in applause, glasses clinking, silverware tapping on glassware as Ella wiped her eyes and leaned into me, whispering, “Your dad just made me cry into my thyme butter.”
“Yeah, he's got a knack for that,” I whispered back.
I wasn’t nervous until I saw Gabe stand up. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother—even when he’s a brooding, emotionally constipated linebacker with a god complex. But handing him a microphone in a sentimental setting was risky.
Still, he rose from his seat with the same game-day presence he brought to the football field. Measured and stoic, more like a warrior from a thousand years ago than a football player. He cleared his throat, glanced at Ella, then looked at me, and my stomach clenched.Here we go.
“Right,” he started, lifting his glass halfway. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Gabe. Patrick’s older brother.”
A few polite chuckles rolled through the guests. Everybody knew who Gabe McCloud was. The darling of the NFL, the hero of our town… blablabla. He shifted his gaze around before his eyes landed back on Ella. And for a moment, I saw it.Real emotion.The kind that snuck up on you. The kind my brother usually dodged with sarcasm and protein shakes.
“I didn’t know he was in love with Ella,” Gabe said.
I blinked in surprise. How could he not have? Ella and I had dated for four years in High School. Heavily dated. Then again, that's when his career took off, so he might have been just a bit too preoccupied with himself.
“That first time, I mean. In high school. I just thought he was weirdly into baking bread and sighing at cloud formations.”
Laughter. Ella let out a snort beside me and covered it with her napkin.
“I get it now,” Gabe went on. “The sighing. The pacing. The mood swings that made me think he was maybe turning into a bear early.”
Even Thorne gave a low snort inside me.He’s not wrong.
My face burned, but I couldn’t stop smiling. Gabe’s tone was dry, his delivery awkward—but he meant it. Every word.
“I didn’t get it then,” he said, his eyes back on Ella. “But I do now. It’s her. It’s always been her.”
Ella looked like someone had punched her heart. I watched her eyes shimmer. Her grip on my hand tightened under the table.
“I’ve seen a lot of teams,” Gabe continued. “But this? This is the real deal. The long game. The one where you fall and you getback up—not because you have to, but becauseyou want to win together.”
My chest went tight. That was the thing about Gabe. He didn’t say much. But when he did, it hit like a linebacker to the ribs. He lifted his glass again. “I wish you both all the love in the world. And the strength to keep choosing each other. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”
A quiet murmur of agreement swept through the guests. It was warm. Honest.
And then… disaster.
Ben leaned in toward Carol—who was seated directly across from Gabe, because apparently, somehow, the nametags got moved—and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Gabe froze.
He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.
