"I know it's not fair to him," Rachel's voice broke. "I know I need to tell him. I just… I don't know how. I don't know how to explain what Derek did without…" She stopped, tears spilling over.
"Without what?" Ellie prompted gently.
Rachel shook her head, unable to finish. How could she explain who Derek was without telling them about the assault?
"Derek was involved in the breakup, wasn't he?" Sophie said quietly. "With Brad?"
Rachel nodded, not trusting her voice.
"How involved?"
"Very." The word came out as barely a whisper.
Ellie reached across and took Rachel's hand. "I'm so sorry. Whatever he did, I'm sorry you went through that."
Rachel looked up, surprised by the warmth in Ellie's voice. No judgment. Just compassion.
"But Rachel," Ellie continued, "Mac needs to know. Not because we don't trust you to handle it, but because the bastard is coming here."
"I'm afraid Mac will look at me differently when he knows the truth."
"He won't," Sophie said firmly. "Mac loves you. And nothing about what someone else did to you is going to change that."
"But what if—"
"Rachel." Sophie squeezed her hand. “Keeping this secret? It's going to hurt worse than telling the truth. The longer you wait, the harder it gets…" She trailed off, letting Rachel fill in the implications.
"Mac will feel betrayed," Rachel said quietly. "Not by what happened to me, but by the fact that I didn't trust himenough to tell him."
"Exactly," Ellie said. "And you don't want that. Neither do we."
Rachel nodded slowly, something settling in her chest. They were right. She knew they were right.
"Tomorrow," she said. "I'll tell him tomorrow."
"Do you want one of us there? For support?" Ellie asked.
"No. This is something I need to do alone." Rachel took a shaky breath and felt fresh tears well up.
"No more tears," Sophie said, wiping the tears from Rachel’s cheeks. Then she stood and grabbed the wine bottle. "Let's actually have that girls' night. Because you need friends and more wine before you have that conversation with Mac tomorrow."
An hour later, sprawled on Sophie's couch with wine and finally some pizza, the conversation had shifted to lighter things. Wedding logistics. Town gossip. Sophie's insistence that Rachel needed a new dress for the wedding.
"I'm serious," Sophie said. "You need something that makes you feel confident. Powerful. Like you can walk into that reception and own it."
"I don't think a dress can do all that," Rachel said.
"You'd be surprised. The right dress is basically armor." Sophie pulled out her phone. "I'm texting the boutique on Oak Street. We're going tomorrow after work."
"Sophie—"
"Non-negotiable. You're telling Mac the hard stuff at 4 PM. We're buying you armor at 6 PM. It's called balance."
Rachel smiled despite herself. "You're very bossy."
"I prefer decisive.'" Sophie grinned. "But yes."
Rachel got home just after ten, feeling emotionally wrung out but also somehow lighter. She had friends who cared enough to push her. Friends who saw her struggles and helped her face them.
