For a moment, it looked like she might say something important. Something that might crack open the careful politeness we'd wrapped around ourselves. But then she just shook her head.
"Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow."
After she left, I stood in the kitchen for a long time, staring at the two bottles of beer on the counter. She’d barely had any of hers. I drained mine then picked up hers and carried it over to the couch. The cabin felt emptier without her, but not in the hollow way it usually did. This felt more like the quiet after a storm, when the air is clean and full of possibility.
Maybe we couldn't go back to what we'd been. But for the first time in years, I was starting to think we might be able to find something new.
Something worth taking a chance on, even if it was just one baby step at a time.
CHAPTER 6
SABRINA
By Thursday night, I couldn't take it anymore. The weight of my secret felt like carrying rocks in my chest. Every time Trace looked at me it was like they multiplied. Every shared glance during wedding prep, every almost-normal conversation we'd managed, felt like another lie layered on top of the biggest one.
I had to tell him. Tonight.
The drive to his cabin felt both endless and way too short. My hands shook on the steering wheel as I wound through the familiar mountain roads, past the turnoff where we used to park and watch meteor showers, past the creek where he'd taught me to fish when we were twelve. Every landmark was a reminder of what I was about to risk losing forever.
The lights in his cabin glowed warm and golden against the dark sky. Smoke curled from the chimney. It looked like home. Wherever he was had always looked like home, even when I was too stubborn or scared to admit it.
I sat in my truck for a full minute after I cut the engine, rehearsing the words I'd practiced all day. Trace, I need to tell you something about the Ex-List. I was the one who wrote down your name. I called you The Heartbreaker, and I'm so sorry.
The words were too hollow, not nearly enough to make up for all the pain I’d caused him. How could I apologize for branding him with a label that followed him around for months? How could I ever make him understand that I’d done it out of hurt and frustration and love that had nowhere else to go?
Before I lost my nerve completely, I forced myself out of the truck and up the porch steps. The boards creaked under my feet… boards he'd nailed into place himself all those years ago while I stood by and pretended to help.
I knocked, my heart hammering against my ribs.
When he opened the door, he stood there in a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded t-shirt that clung to his shoulders in a way that made my mouth go dry. His hair stuck out like he'd been running his hands through it, and the surprise in his eyes quickly softened into something warmer.
"Hey," he said, stepping back to let me in. "Everything okay? You look..."
"Nervous?" I supplied, unwrapping my scarf with shaking fingers.
"I was going to say beautiful, but nervous works too." The compliment slipped out naturally, like the old Trace who used to make me blush without trying.
Heat raced over my cheeks as I hung my coat on the hook by the door. It was the same hook where I'd hung my jacket countless times before, back when showing up at his place unannounced was normal. Back when we were us.
“Want something to warm you up? I think I still have some of that chai tea you like."
The fact that he remembered made my chest ache. "I'm okay. I just..." I took a shaky breath. "I need to talk to you about something."
“Okay.” His expression shifted from warm to wary. We’d been here before… this was just like the night I’d stopped by a few years ago when I told him I was thinking about leaving Hard Timber. The night he almost kissed me. "Do you want to sit down?"
I shook my head. If I sat down, I might lose my nerve completely. "Trace, about the Ex-List?—"
“It’s fine. I can handle the podcaster on my own.”
"But I—" I started, then stopped as he stepped closer.
"Sabrina." His voice was low and gentle, his eyes searching my face. “I don’t want to talk about the damn Ex-List. What matters is right now. This." He gestured between us. "Us working together again, talking again. It feels..."
"Like what?" I whispered.
"Like maybe we got a second chance."
The hope in his voice nearly undid me. This was supposed to be the moment I came clean, the moment I finally told him the truth. But he was looking at me like I was something precious, something worth a second chance, and the words died in my throat.
