Page 43 of Beloved Beauty

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” But I wish to God I did.

Before my mind has time to race too much, the door swings open. Chloe strides in with a fresh tray in her hands. “All right, lovebirds. Ready for the next round?”

Magnolia sits up a little straighter, smoothing her napkin. “I think you’ve outdone yourself.”

Chloe describes the next dish—some kind of slow-roasted duck with charred figs and rosemary jus—and I nod along, throw in a joke about how I’ll need to run laps tomorrow just to earn it.

On the surface, we pass for normal. But under the flicker of candlelight and the hum of Chloe’s voice, the unease has gone nowhere.

The food’s incredible. The woman beside me is everything I ever wanted.

But the shadow Tyson’s created?

It’s darker than I imagined.

And it’s not going away on its own.

Chapter 15

Magnolia Steel

The suite buzzes with laughter and the low hum of conversation. Beer bottles clink against tumblers of something darker. Someone passes a tray of chipotle steak skewers and sweet potato rounds with whipped feta. I grab one, more out of curiosity than hunger.

Megan is curled up on one of the plush love seats, a throw blanket draped over her lap, her expression half amusement, half focus as she chats with two wives I’ve only met once.

It’s cozy up here—too cozy for what’s happening down below.

I glance at the pitch. The crowd’s thundering intensity spikes with each phase, never letting up even between scrums and lineouts.

I tuck my feet beneath me on the low couch, sipping my wine, listening to the rhythm of the room. There’s a language here. A culture. Wives passing inside jokes like wine glasses. Stories that start with bruises and end in laughter. It’ll take time, but I’m learning the rhythm, one match at a time.

Megan leans toward me, nudging my elbow. “You good?”

I nod. “Just taking it all in.”

“Welcome to game night. In this suite, it’s wine, snacks, and screaming at the ref as if he can hear us.”

I smile, but my eyes drift back to the screen mounted near the bar. The camera cuts to the sideline—and my heart pulls the way it always does.

Alex.

He’s in full kit, headset on, one knee propped on the bench as he talks to the trainer beside him. He looks good. Strong. Steady. That unreadable game face in place.

The announcer’s voice comes through the overhead speakers, clear and booming. “And there he is—Sebring himself. Former team captain and defensive powerhouse Alex Sebring is back on the sideline after a season-ending injury almost three years ago. He’s back and training with the team, expected to make his official return at the start of next season.”

The reaction is instant.

The stadium roars.

Applause. Cheers. Then, a chant builds—not only in the stands but in the suite too.

“Build the Wall! Build the Wall! Build the Wall!”

I blink.

And they start to sing––loud and off-key––joy spilling from every corner of the room.

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