Mac skated another lap, his mind still on Rachel. On Brad. On the choice she'd made that he couldn't change.
He'd been honest with her. He'd told her he was scared. So why did it still feel like he'd failed?
48
Rachel
Rachel had texted Brad back yesterday: The Grind, Evergreen Cove. 11 AM Sunday.
He'd responded within minutes: I'll be there. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain.
Now, sitting in her car outside the coffee shop, she wondered if this was a mistake. Brad was driving four hours from Burlington for this conversation. And Mac had told her he was scared. Had said he trusted her but needed her to consider his feelings.
She'd promised him she'd think about it.
And then she'd texted Brad the time and place anyway.
Rachel gripped the steering wheel. She needed closure. Needed to hear Brad admit what Derek had done. Needed to understand how she'd been so blind.
But was closure worth hurting Mac?
She checked her phone. No messages from Mac. He'd been quiet all morning.
Rachel took a breath and got out of the car.
She arrived at The Grind fifteen minutes early, her hands shaking as she ordered a latte, although she felt like throwing up.
She chose the same corner booth where Derek had surveilled her, some perverse need to reclaim the space, maybe.
Her phone buzzed. Sophie. She’d told her about the meeting.
Sophie:Are you sure about this? Meeting Brad?
Rachel:No. But I need to do it anyway.
Sophie:Want me to come sit in the corner as backup? I can pretend to read but actually eavesdrop.
Rachel:That's sweet but no. I need to do this alone.
Sophie:Okay. But if he says anything terrible, you text me immediately and I'll come throw coffee on him. From MY coffee shop that is. (I can’t believe you went to the Grind!)
Rachel:LOL. Deal.
At 11:07, Brad Reese walked into The Grind.
Rachel's breath caught.
He looked the same: same blond hair, same athletic build, same easy confidence. But there was something different too. Lines around his eyes. A wariness that hadn't been there before.
Brad saw her and his expression shifted, guilt, hope, uncertainty maybe?
"Rachel," Brad said, approaching carefully. "Thank you for meeting me. I know you didn't have to."
"I almost didn't." Rachel's voice was steadier than she expected. "Sit."
Brad sat across from her, hands wrapped around his coffee cup like he needed something to hold onto. The espresso machine hissed behind the counter. Someone laughed at a table near the window.
"You look good," Brad said. "Happy."
