"No." Brad's voice went hollow. "I'm here because Derek tried to use me to hurt you again and I finally fucking woke up. Because I saw the town hall video and realized—" He stopped, taking a shaky breath. "I realized I helped him assault you."
Rachel's chair scraped back. She stood without thinking, her whole body recoiling.
"Notphysically," Brad said quickly, looking up at her. "But I gave him the weapon. I made everyone think you were the problem. So when he… when he hurt you, you didn't tell anyone because I'd already convinced everyone you were unstable."
She couldn't breathe. The coffee shop smelled too strong, the cinnamon too sweet, everything too close.
"Rachel—"
"Don't." She sat back down slowly, gripping the edge of the table. Her hands were shaking. "You hurt me, Brad."
His voice cracked. "Yeah."
"I spent a year believing I was too much. That caring about someone meant driving them away."
"You weren't too much. You were—" Brad stopped, tears in his eyes now too. "Fuck. You were exactly right. Supportive and loyal and you actually gave a shit about me even when I was failing. And I threw that away."
Nobody spoke. The espresso machine started up again, a piercing whine that filled the silence.
"So what now?" Rachel asked finally, her voice hollow.
He stood abruptly, nearly knocking his chair over. "I'm sorry. For all of it. For being a coward. For believing Derek. For destroying us." He grabbed his coffee cup. "I won't bother you again."
"Brad—"
"What?"
Rachel didn't know what she wanted to say. Thank you? Fuck you? I forgive you? She didn't.
"Nothing," she said finally. "Goodbye, Brad."
"Yeah. Goodbye."
He walked out without looking back.
Rachel sat alone in the coffee shop, crying into her now-cold latte, feeling something shift inside her.
Brad had confirmed what she'd needed to hear: she wasn't theproblem. But the confirmation came wrapped in his bitterness, his excuses, his year-too-late regret.
It wasn't clean closure. It was messy and complicated and imperfect.
But it was real.
And maybe that was enough.
The relief was tangled with guilt though. Because Mac had asked her not to do this.
And she'd done it anyway.
She pulled out her phone and texted Mac: I'm coming home.
49
Rachel
Rachel walked back to the apartment slowly, her mind replaying Brad's words.You weren't the problem. You were never the problem.
She'd gotten the closure she needed. Brad had confirmed everything. But as she climbed the stairs to their apartment, the one they'd moved into together just days ago, she felt the weight of what she'd done settling over her like wet concrete.
