Page 108 of That: Taylor & Brooks

She’d grown bashful, breathless. She was so happy. Grateful. Full.

Brooks dipped his head, kissing her knuckles.

“No need to thank me. This is just the beginning, Tay Marie. The beginning of everything.”

God had blessed her abundantly, in surplus. Not just with provision, but with protection. With peace. Withcorrection.

And she needed all three.

As they drove toward the venue, hands linked over the console, Taylor found her thoughts already reaching beyond tonight. Toward the life they were building. One surprising, beautiful step at a time.

She thought about the women who’d stayed too long. Who forgave too fast.

If she could tell them anything, it would be this:

God doesn’t stop showing up just because you chose wrong.

He doesn’t revoke His love because you missed the signs.

He’s not tallying your failures, He’s reaching to cover them.

Mistakes don’t make you unworthy. A broken heart doesn’t make you unlovable.

And starting over doesn’t mean you’ve fallen out of favor.

Grace is still for you, even in the mess.

Even when you knew better.

Even when you thought you’d never recover.

Taylor turned to look at Brooks, the man who’d shown her what it felt like to be valued, to be protected, to belovedwithout condition.

No, this wasn’t how she planned it.

But maybe that was the point.

Because sometimes, God doesn’t reroute youin spiteof the detour.

Sometimes, He blesses youthroughit. She would never be able to thank him enough.

Chapter 28

The Best of Coupeville Gala was in full swing when they stepped in. The venue glowed under soft amber lights, crystal chandeliers dripping from the ceiling like stars that had dropped in for the evening. Velvet-draped tables wrapped the room in serene elegance, and polished marble floors.

The crowd was already buzzing, hands shaking, private conversations, people talking business instead of basking in the ambience. Wealth and influence were all around her. Taylor took it in slowly. Never, not even in her daydreams, had she imagined herself in a space like this. Not just attending but belonging. The mayor was here. Council members. Heads of city departments.

A who’s who of Coupeville, and she was walking in hand-in-hand with the man whose name was on the invite.

Gone were the days of curling up in fuzzy socks, scrolling through channels, waiting on something to change. Things had changed. She had changed. And standing beside Brooks Bishop made it real in a way nothing else had.

Taylor didn’t try to turn heads; she just did, effortlessly. The emerald, green gown flowed down her body like it was made for her, dipping low in the back with a thin gold chain that hung along her spine, ending in a heart. A high slit teased the room, and thefabric slid over her still-flat stomach. Hair pulled back into a sleek bun, tendrils curled at her ears, gold hoops, with subtle glam.

Brooks matched her energy in a clean black tux—no frills, just dominance—a Classic gentleman. He didn’t need to speak when he walked in; his presence was the announcement.

“This place is so nice. Brooks—look at the mural on the ceiling,” Taylor whispered as she tilted her head back.

He stepped closer, letting out an audible breath. “That is beautiful.”

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