And below it, a text from Theo that came through around dinner:Heard about the café. Sorry, Rachel. Here if you need anything.
Two good men. Two people who care about me. Two potential complications I don’t know how to handle.
I type a response to both:Thanks. I’m okay.
It’s a lie. But it’s easier than admitting the truth.
Chapter fourteen
Chapter 14
Theo
Rachel’s not answering my texts.
Three days. I’ve sent maybe five messages total—not trying to be pushy, just checking in. Casual stuff. “How are you holding up?” and “Want to grab coffee?” and “Tommy still loving that fire truck?”
Her responses have been getting shorter.
Fine.
Busy with job stuff.
He loves it.
That last one came through this morning, and I stared at it for ten minutes, trying to figure out whether she was actually fine or if “fine” was code for “leave me alone.”
I’m betting on the second one.
Which is why I’m driving to Jake’s house at eleven on a Saturday morning without an invitation.
Jake’s truck isn’t in the driveway when I pull up. I text him:You home?
His response comes fast:Hardware store with Tommy. Buying supplies for his Alaska prep. Be back in a few hours.
Perfect. Or maybe not perfect. Depends on how you look at it.
I get out of the truck and walk up to the front door. Ring the bell.
No answer.
I ring again.
Still nothing.
I’m about to leave when I hear movement inside. The door opens, and Rachel appears in the doorway wearing old sweatsand a t-shirt that’s definitely Jake’s. Her hair’s pulled back in a messy bun, and she’s not wearing any makeup.
She looks exhausted.
“Theo.” She blinks like she’s surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you. You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m fine.”
There’s that word again.
“Can I come in?”
