That was one thing Reid had shared with me that I hadn’t told Kinsley yet because the information felt private. But she had way more insight into the process, so maybe I was short-changing myself by not bringing it up.
“So…um…Reid is actually going to a therapist now.”
“Wow, admitting he needs to work on himself can’t be easy for him,” she murmured.
I traced the edge of the couch cushion with my finger. “He said he’s trying to understand why he kept dismissing me.”
“So many men would rather die than sit with a therapist and look at their own shit. The fact that he’s going when he knows it might not make any difference with you is a really good sign.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared to believe it.”
“Which is totally fair because I still want to fly out there to kick his ass. Therapy or no therapy. Confronting your family or not. He still made my bestie cry way too much.”
I laughed through the tears that had started forming again. “Noted.”
After hanging up with Kinsley, I examined my own feelings with a kind of cautious curiosity I hadn’t allowed myself in days.
I felt a little lighter and less alone. But the fear that Reid might slip back into old patterns continued to linger.
I wasn’t ready to forgive him. The hurt was still too fresh, but the work he was doing had created enough of a crack in my armor that the faintest light was shining through where there had only been anger and pain before.
I reached down and touched my bare finger, tracing the spot where my engagement ring used to sit. As I gently ran my thumb over the empty space, the future I’d been grieving didn’t feel quite so impossible anymore.
14
REID
Isat at my kitchen counter, staring at my phone for a long time before I finally started typing. Mailing the letter in my hand felt too impersonal, but I didn’t want to show up unannounced and make Lila feel cornered in her own home.
So I kept the message to the point.
Me
Would it be okay if I dropped a letter off in person? I won’t stay long. You can read it later if you want.
I hit send and waited, thrumming my fingers on the marble. Her reply came ten long minutes later.
Lila
You can come by now if you want. I’m home.
I exhaled in relief before grabbing my keys, determined to get there before I lost my nerve.
The drive from house to hers only took about twenty minutes, but it felt like forever. Except when I got to her door, my nerves got the better of me, and I stood there for amoment with my heart pounding harder than it ever did while negotiating multimillion-dollar deals.
This letter was the hardest thing I’d ever written. Holding myself accountable in black and white had been more difficult than I expected. I redrafted it three times, making sure there were no excuses hidden between the lines.
This wasn’t a grand gesture to make Lila forgive me. It was about showing her I was finally listening. And I could only do that if I actually handed the letter over.
I finally lifted my hand and rapped my knuckles against the hard surface. The door opened almost immediately, as though Lila had been waiting for me to knock.
Pulling the envelope from my pocket, I held it out to her. But I didn’t move forward, waiting to see if she would invite me inside.
Her gaze darted down to my hand, her conflict clear on her face. After a moment, she stepped back and opened the door wider without taking the letter from me.
I walked in, careful to keep some space between us. The spicy aroma of her famous gingerbread drifted to me, and my mouth watered at the memory of how delicious the treat was. “I interrupted your baking.”
“Yeah.” She closed the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms loosely over her chest as she watched me with guarded eyes.
