Mac set his spoon down. The clink against the ceramic bowl sounded incredibly loud in the quiet kitchen. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know." Rachel looked at her coffee. "Part of me wants to ignore him. But part of me... I spent years believing I was the problem, Mac. That I was too clingy, too boring, too much. What if Brad can tell me what really happened?"
"That's possible," Mac said, his voice tight. "But Rachel, what if this is exactly what Derek wants? To pull you back into that trauma? To hurt you again?"
"I know. I've thought about that." Rachel met his eyes. "But what if I don't go and spend the rest of my life wondering? What if Brad has answers that could help me finally let go of all that shame?"
Mac stood up. He walked to the window, staring out at the street, his shoulders tense. "And if I asked you not to go? If I told you I have a bad feeling about this? That I'm terrified he will hurt you again?"
Rachel's chest tightened. "Then I'd tell you that I hear you. That I know you’re trying to protect me. But that I still need to do this."
Mac turned around. He looked wrecked. Not angry, just terrified.
"Rachel," he said, his voice rough. "Do you have any idea what it does to me? Watching you walk back toward the people who destroyed you? It’s like watching you walk into a burning building and being told I can't pull you out."
"I have to walk into it, Mac. To prove I can walk out again."
"I know." He ran a hand through his messy hair, gripping the back of his neck. "I know you do. And that’s the problem."
"What is?"
"I can't watch it." Mac grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. His movements were jerky. "I can't sit here and watch you text him back. If I stay, I’m going to try to stop you. I’m going to argue and plead and try to control the situation to keep you safe. And I promised I wouldn't do that to you."
"Mac—"
"I love you," he said, his eyes burning into hers. "I love you enough to know that you need to do this. But I love you too much to sit in the front row and watch it happen."
He walked to the door, his hand pausing on the knob.
"I need to go to the rink," he said, his voice hollow. "I need to burn off this energy before I do something stupid like drive to Burlington and punch Brad myself."
"You're leaving?"
"I'm stepping back. Because if I stay right now, my fear is going to make this harder for you. And you need to be focused." He looked at her one last time, his expression a mix of love and absolute terror. "Just... please come back to me. Okay?"
"I will."
"Okay."
The door closed behind him.
Rachel sat alone at their kitchen table, staring at Brad's text. Mac hadn't left because he was mad. He’d left because he loved her too much to stand in her way, even when it was killing him.
Was she being brave? Or was she breaking his heart?
She didn't know anymore.
Mac
Mac arrived at the rink to find Cole already there, skating alone with aggressive precision.
"You're here early," Mac called out, lacing up his skates.
"Couldn't sleep. Ellie's stressed about the licensing board hearing. I needed to work off some energy." Cole noticed Mac's expression. "You okay?"
"Rachel's probably going to meet Brad Reese. For coffee. To get closure.'"
Cole stopped skating. "How do you feel about that?"
