Sophie and Ellie exchanged a glance.
"Rachel, please." Sophie started.
"I said I don't want to talk about it." Rachel set down her glass, standing abruptly. "Derek Matthews is not my problem. He's just a physical therapist with opinions."
"Mac said there was a photo of Matthews with your ex," Ellie pressed gently. "That they were friends. And if he was involved in anything that happened to you—"
"He wasn't." The lie tasted bitter, but it was safer like this.
"Rachel." Ellie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before speaking. "You're not telling me the truth. I can see it on your face."
Panic rose in her chest. She couldn't do this. Couldn't explain Derek's role without explaining everything, the advances she'd rejected, the systematic poisoning of her relationship, the revenge disguised as career advice. Couldn't admit how naive she'd been, how she'd missed all the signs.
"I need to go." Rachel grabbed her purse. "I have to get back to work."
"Rachel, wait." Sophie stood too.
"Thank you for inviting me. The dress is beautiful. I'll see you both at the wedding." Rachel was already moving toward the door, her heart pounding.
"Rachel!" Ellie called after her.
Rachel paused at the door, her hand on the handle. For a moment, she almost turned back. Almost told them everything.
But then she thought about Mac's face if he knew the truth. If he knew that Derek had wanted her, his hands on her body, that everything that followed had been calculated revenge. That she'd been so stupid, so oblivious, that she'd let it happen.
"He's notdangerous, okay?" Rachel said quietly, still notturning around. "He's just... he's good at getting what he wants. And right now, he wants to discredit small-market teams. That's all."
"Is it?" Ellie's voice was skeptical.
Rachel opened the door, the bell chiming above her. "I need to go."
She walked out into the bright afternoon, leaving her two friends staring after her.
Her phone buzzed almost immediately. Sophie.
Sophie:Rachel, whatever you're hiding, it's eating you alive. When you’re ready to talk we are here for you.
Rachel stared at the text, then pocketed her phone without responding.
She walked back to the library, her mind racing. Ellie would tell Mac about this conversation. Mac would know Rachel was hiding something.
And then what?
Rachel's hands were shaking as she pushed open the library doors. Mrs. Henderson looked up from the table she was reading at, took one look at Rachel's face, and immediately stood.
"Oh, dear. What happened now?"
Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Her throat was too tight, her chest constricting like someone had wrapped bands around her ribs and was pulling them tighter and tighter.
"I think." Her voice cracked. "I think I just made everything worse."
Mrs. Henderson crossed to her in three quick steps. "Rachel—"
And that was all it took. The kindness in Mrs. Henderson's voice, the maternal concern on her face; it shattered the last of Rachel's control.
A sob tore from her throat, raw and ugly and desperate. Then another. And suddenly she couldn't stop, couldn't breathe,couldn't do anything but cry in great heaving gasps that felt like they were ripping her apart from the inside.
"Oh, sweetheart." Mrs. Henderson's arms came around her, strong and sure, pulling Rachel against her chest. "I've got you. I've got you."
