My Ex Said I’d Never Be Enough—His Brothers Disagree

Margot

Constance “CeCe” Claire —soon to be Constance Heather —was even more breathtaking than the exclusive lodge she’d chosen for her wedding to my ex-boyfriend, Braxton. Some might describe that with a trace of bitterness, but I wasn’t bitter—just amazed. Though I’d stalked her on her highly popular social media, nothing prepared me for how stunning she was in person.

If a fairy and an angel had a love child, it might look like CeCe. Her pale blonde hair seemed naturally perfect, her bright blue eyes sparkled, and her button nose complemented her full lips—possibly enhanced by filler, though if so, they were impeccably done. Her makeup was flawless, and her petite frame was blessed with curves in all the right places. Not a hint of imperfection. Even cellulite wouldn’t dare. And, of course, her custom-tailored lacey white pantsuit stirred a healthy dose of envy in me.

Meanwhile, I had forced my less-than-perfect curves into a dress that made me look great but at the cost of my ability to breathe. My chest was dangerously close to spilling into inappropriate territory. After debating for half an hour in front of my mirror, I finally threw caution to the wind and headed out to meet my ex and his fiancée.

“This place is stunning in person. I was worried at first. We had a dozen other options—places some of my girlfriends got married—but I wanted something far from the chaos of everyday life, you know?” CeCe said as she admired the barn venue. When she looked back at me, her expression was warm and genuine. “How’s your suite at the lodge, Margot? I told Braxton to make sure you got something really nice. You’ve done so much for us—you deserve it.”

I smiled politely. Braxton had indeed made sure I got a room—one with a full-size bed and a view of the barn’s back wall. Likely the worst room in the entire lodge, but I wasn’t about to complain.

“I had to save the suites for family,” Braxton chimed in. “Margot’s fine. She’s not used to places like this. You should’ve seen her apartment when we were dating.” His grin was disarming, masking the sting of his words. “I told you about the time her ceiling collapsed because her landlord flooded the bathroom upstairs, right?”

CeCe laughed awkwardly, patting Braxton’s arm. “I don’t recall hearing that story. Anyway, Margot, what do you think of the venue?”

Turning slightly, I ignored Braxton and focused on CeCe. “You’ve picked a magical spot. This venue is incredible. The lodge is gorgeous, and this event hall—there’s nothing like it. Last night, I saw the place lit up, and it’s breathtaking. You’re going to fall in love with it.”

CeCe’s eyes lit up, and she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “I’m so grateful you’re helping us. When we decided on such short notice, I thought every planner would hate us. Thank goodness we found you.”

She was beautiful, kind, and gracious. Of course, she was. And I appreciated her kindness, considering the awkward situation of planning my ex-boyfriend’s wedding. “You’re doing me a favor too. I don’t often get opportunities to plan something this grand. I’ll make sure everything is perfect—not just because you deserve it, but because this is a chance for me to prove what I’m capable of.”

“I was nervous to meet you, but you have such a wonderful energy, Margot. This is going to be amazing.”

Braxton cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around CeCe. “Speaking of perfection, Margot, I’m not a fan of the sign out front. I know I specified the font, and that’s not it.”

CeCe blushed. “Oh, Braxton, it’s beautiful—”

“We’re paying for perfection, honey. The sign needs to be fixed.” He looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Is that manageable?”

I swallowed my irritation. Braxton was getting my services at half my usual rate—only because I needed the exposure. He wasn’t paying for perfection, but I forced a smile and nodded. “Of course, Braxton. I’ll double-check the emails and fix it before the guests arrive. We’ve got two weeks to iron out any kinks.”

“If there are more mistakes, you’ll need more than two weeks, Margot,” Braxton quipped, his tone light but cutting. “Just make it perfect. We don’t want you looking bad.”

He pushed his chair back and stood, buttoning his jacket. CeCe quickly followed, rushing around the table to hug me. She whispered, “He’s stressed about a business deal. I’ll make sure he’s nicer. Thank you, Margot—I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

Her expensive perfume lingered as I returned the gentle hug, careful not to crush her petite frame. “It’s great to meet you too. I’ll make sure your wedding is everything you dreamed of.”

After they exited through the towering barn doors, anger simmered in my veins. Braxton’s words had a way of cutting deep, just as they had when we were dating. I reminded myself to focus on the prize: surviving these two weeks to secure leads from CeCe’s influential circle.

Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the barn. Its vaulted wooden ceilings stretched thirty feet high, adorned with fairy lights that created a starlit effect. The space was rustic-meets-luxury and nothing short of extraordinary. Everything was perfect—except Braxton.

And except for Jaxon Heather , Braxton’s older brother, who was now standing in the corner with his hand inside a crate of expensive whiskey I’d ordered. I didn’t know how he’d even gotten there, but I wasn’t about to let him ruin things.

I marched over, my dress a hazard with every step. “Jaxon, you are not stealing whiskey right in front of me—”

“Hey, Bubba,” he drawled, his deep voice paired with a slow smirk. That stupid nickname made my stomach flip, but I ignored it. There were definitely no butterflies. None at all. And I absolutely didn’t notice the way his eyes swept over me, as if I were his favorite indulgence. Definitely not.