“To meet. With me.”
“What did you say?”
“I agreed.”
“Holy…” Sophie looks at Julian and abstains from cursing a second time.
“Yeah.”
My whole body feels like it’s on fire, and I’m struggling to keep my breathing steady.
“I’m gonna tell Karan my old work called me for some paperwork they forgot to have me fill out, and you’re going to corroborate what I say because you overheard the entire call, right?”
Sophie arches an eyebrow. “Did I?”
“You did.”
“Right.”
I find my winter gear and get dressed in a daze. When Karan comes back up for more boxes, I repeat my excuse, which tastes bitter on my tongue. I hate lying to my husband, even if I know it’s only for a short time. And when he kisses me goodbye, my heart sinks to my feet.
The weather is mild enough for me to walk, so I do, hardly sensing the slight chill in the air against my cheeks the entire way. Even when I arrive and walk inside, the smell of freshly baked bagels and coffee that permeates the air doesn’t faze me.
Because she’s already here.
Martine sits alone in an armchair that seems to swallow her up. She’s holding a steaming mug of coffee, and she’s no longer wearing a headscarf, letting her short silver curls out in the open.A second mug sits on the table in front of her, facing an empty armchair that she saved for me.
At first, she doesn’t hear me walk towards her; her gaze is fixed forward, her brows deeply furrowed. It looks like she’s lost in thought. I hesitate when I’m ten feet away. If she were to turn her head slightly, she would see me standing awkwardly.
I can do this.
I take a deep breath and step forward, taking a seat in the empty armchair. My arrival rips her out of her daze. She blinks several times, then looks me up and down before finally meeting my gaze.
“Rachel.”
“Is this…” I point to the second mug on the table. “For me?”
She gives me a small, hesitant smile. “Yes. Just how you like it. I hope that’s okay.”
I nod and pick up the mug. We’re both quiet for a moment, unsure of how to break the ice. It should be her. After all, she asked me to come. And I don’t want to say the wrong thing and seem ‘insane’ to her again.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” Martine finally says.
There’s nothing aggressive or off-putting in her tone. It doesn’t feel like she’s trying to build up to an argument.
“I know we didn’t leave things on the best of terms.”
“What do you want?” I blurt out.
I immediately cover my mouth, shocked by my own rudeness. I’ve let the pressure get to me.
Martine recoils, her eyes going wide for an instant.
“I’m sorry,” I immediately say. “That came out rude.”
“No, I understand,” she stammers. “I was completely out of line in the way I treated you at the cabin, Rachel. I’m here to apologize.”
The world drops below my feet.
