Chapter 7

Sunday morning sunlight spilled through the window as Brandon buttoned up his white shirt, adjusting his tie in the mirror. He ran a hand through his freshly trimmed hair, then glanced over at the suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair. Nerves hummed in his chest—not because of the game tomorrow, but because today… Genevieve was meeting his family.

He hadn't told anyone much. Just that there was a girl. That she was special. That she made him better.

He heard a soft knock at the front door and smiled instantly. She was early. Just like always.

Brandon opened the door to see Genevieve in a soft lavender dress, her scriptures tucked in one arm, curls cascading down her shoulders. Her smile was radiant.

"Hi," she said shyly, like they hadn't already spent every day together that week.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "You're beautiful."

"And you're nervous," she teased.

He grinned, grabbing his keys. "Guilty. You ready, Baby Girl?"

"With you? Always."

The sacrament meeting was quiet and reverent, with the Spirit filling the small chapel. Brandon sat beside Genevieve, his family filling the pew around them—his mom on his other side, his little sister two seats down, watching Genevieve like a hawk.

Genevieve spoke quietly when needed, smiled when appropriate, and even offered to say the closing prayer in their family class.

Afterward, Brandon's mom pulled him aside.

"She's sweet," she said. "And grounded. I can tell she really loves you."

Brandon smiled. "She does, Mom. And I love her."

Later that night, Genevieve stood with Brandon on the balcony of his apartment, the city glowing behind them like a thousand twinkling lights.

"I have to officially tell the studio tomorrow," she said quietly, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve. "That I'm done. No more filming. Just music… just this. Us."

Brandon turned to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I know it's hard, Baby Girl. But you're following your heart. And God's voice."

"I missed one of your games… and I couldn't stop thinking about it," she said. "That one game made me realize where I wanted to be."

"With me," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

"With you," she confirmed, leaning up to kiss him.

It was soft. Warm. Steady.

A goodbye kiss to the old life…

And a promise kiss for the new one ahead.

Meanwhile in Burbank…

Peyton's trailer on the Disney lot was quiet. Cold.

He scrolled through the message threads on his phone again—most of them unread now.

The studio had officially confirmed the cancellation of Dog With A Blog earlier that day. The fans were heartbroken. So was the crew.

But what really tore at him… was the silence from Genevieve.

Not a call. Not a text. Not even a goodbye.

He opened his camera roll, stopped on a picture of the two of them laughing behind the scenes. He stared for a long moment… then finally hit delete.

Then he opened up that reporter's DM again.

And hit send.

"I've got a story for you."

Back in San Francisco…

Brandon tucked Genevieve under his arm as they sat on the couch, the game broadcast playing softly in the background. It wasn't one of his, just a replay of last night's primetime matchup. But she was watching with him anyway—no distractions, no studio calls, no last-minute rehearsals.

Just him.

Just her.

Just peace.

"Tell me something," she whispered.

"Anything."

"Do you ever think… this is what forever feels like?"

He smiled. "Only every time I look at you."

She blushed, snuggling closer. "Then let's never look away."