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  “Yeah, well, she doesn’t get to define how your forgiveness looks. Letting go is healthy for everyone.” In defiance of my own words, I silently shrugged inside. I wasn't sure I could ever forgive one person—Chet. He had a shitty name, but I knew letting go might be healthy for me.

  “That helps me think about it. I don't think I'm there yet with the forgiveness,” she said honestly.

  “Well, you don't have to be. It's pretty freaking fresh, and she's got some nerve. You know what we should do?”

  “What?”

  “We should book up everything in town so she can't find anywhere to hold her reception. I doubt the pastor will refuse to do the wedding, but we can make the rest difficult for her,” I offered with a sly grin.

  Phoebe laughed softly. “I’ll deal. The less I think about it, the better. On another note, you know who's moving back to town?”

  “Aside from me?” I teased.

  “Yeah, aside from you, although that's news, and I'm glad you're here.”

  “Who?”

  “Archer Cannon.”

  I rifled through my memories. “Archer from elementary school? The kid you hung out with all the time?” At her nod, I asked, “Didn't he move away before we even got to high school?”

  “Yup. He was my best friend back when we were little.”

  “I remember. He was getting kind of cute before he moved. Maybe you guys can have a fling?”

  Phoebe’s eyes widened comically. “Um, Archer wasn't that kind of friend.”

  “It was elementary school,” I countered.

  She burst out laughing. “True. Like, no guy is hot in the fifth grade.”

  We laughed again, and I was grateful for something to focus on other than my own worries.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rowan

  I had sent a quick email to my old friend Darryl, asking if he knew anything I didn’t about what might’ve happened with Mae. If there was anything to know, he might know it. Ever since Mae had said she needed to tell me something, something was niggling in my thoughts. I chalked it up to me being upset with Mae back then for cutting me out without explanation.

  After she stopped talking to me, biology lab had been tense for the rest of that semester. After that, we didn’t have any classes together.

  Opening my email, I was surprised to see his reply only a day later. “Call me. I think I know what you’re asking about.”

  Scrolling through my contacts, I found his old number. “Hey, man,” he said as soon as he answered. “How the hell are you?”

  “Pretty good. Life’s busy. How about you? You still working in law?”

  “Of course. It's kind of dry, but I actually like it. Got married. About to have our second kid.”

  “Good for you, man. That’s what you wanted, right?” Darryl had been a solid friend who knew what he wanted—a steady job with decent money and a family. The guy kept it simple.

  “Good thing it’s what I wanted. I love kids. They’re hysterical and messy. What about you? You were doing the firefighter thing last I knew,” he replied.

  “Still am. I’m out in Alaska. A buddy from my hometown who's also a firefighter told me about an opening out here, so I jumped on it.”

  “Ah, you do love to travel. How is Alaska? What's it like?”

  “Fucking gorgeous and kind of mind-blowing. There are moose everywhere.”

  Darryl chuckled. “So that's not an exaggeration?”

  “Nope. Anyway, you said for me to call you.”

  “I did. You sure you want to know? I thought you knew, or I’d have told you.”

  My gut turned over. “What is it?”

  “It was that night you couldn’t find Mae at that party. You remember Chet?”

  “Yeah. Hard to forget that asshole.” At the mere mention of Chet’s name, dread coated my stomach with a bitter acid.

  Chet was a fucking dick, the worst kind of guy. He’d only been our roommate for that one year. We’d chosen not to renew a lease because we didn’t want him there anymore.

  “What happened?” I prompted.

  “I don't know all the details, but I'm pretty sure he spiked her drink. Steph heard about it,” he explained, referring to his wife, who’d been his girlfriend back then.

  My heart seized and then lunged into a pounding beat. After Chet moved out, rumors traveled about him spiking women's drinks with a date rape drug and then raping them and claiming it was consensual. We didn’t find out about this level of his assfuckery until after he moved out.

  “Oh, my fucking god.”

  “I know. Even though they were just rumors, I always wondered if they were true. He was a next-level asshole.”

  “Fuck. I know. Darryl, you knew Mae. She wasn't a partier. He didn’t usually go for that kind of girl.” I was grasping at anything to somehow make this not true.

  Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. No, no, no!

  I was standing in the kitchen in my apartment, and my knees felt a little wobbly. I walked over and plunked down on the couch.

  “Chet didn’t have a type. He just liked to take advantage if he thought he could,” my friend said flatly.

  “Oh, my god,” I breathed. “No wonder she was so pissed off at me. Did you know that back then?”

  “Fuck no! I’d have told you if I did. I found out because Stephanie heard from another one of the girls who knew Mae. I told her about your email, and that’s what she told me. I’d like to think it was bullshit, but you know how Chet was.”

  “Oh, my god,” I repeated. I was trying to wrap my brain around this hellish news.

  “What brings this up now?”

  “I'm in Alaska, and that's where Mae's from. It’s kind of a weird coincidence, but when my friend told me where the job was, I wanted to take it because I hoped I could reconnect with her. She kind of fell off the radar.”

  “How is she?” he asked.

  I took a shaky breath. “I’m not sure now. I mean, she’s okay, but I didn’t know this. I couldn't ever forget her. She's just, I don't know. You know how it is.”

  Darryl’s laugh rustled through the line. “I do. That's why I married Stephanie.”

  I managed to laugh, but it was dry and tinged with bitterness. My laughter died in my throat. “Fuck,” I muttered.

  “Yeah, sorry to tell you that. It's awful.”

  “Should I tell Mae what I know?”

  “Hell if I know. That's intense. I don't know.”

  “Can I talk to Stephanie?” I hadn’t spoken to his wife in years, but I knew her from college because they started dating when I lived with Darryl. I was near frantic to talk to her.

  “Right now?”

  “Please, if you don't mind.”

  My friend moved the phone away from his mouth, calling, “Steph!”

  A few seconds later, I heard him explaining that I wanted to talk to her and why.

  “Here she is,” he said.

  “Hi, Rowan. Nice to hear from you,” she said.

  “Same. Look, I know this might be weird.”

  “It’s definitely a tough conversation to start with,” Stephanie said.

  Her tone was warm, radiating empathy and reminding me precisely why Darryl fell for her.

  “Can you fill me in on what you heard? Did Mae remember what happened?”

  Just asking that question caused my stomach to twist painfully.

  “She was in my dorm, and we were in the same circle of friends. Mae told us what happened with Chet. She remembers because she came to in the middle of it.”

  “Oh, my fucking god,” I whispered hoarsely. I wanted to throw up. “Was she okay?”

  “Well, I mean, no. She was pretty freaked out about it. I don't think she dated again at all after that. According to her old roommate, who was just a shallow gossip, Mae was a virgin before that, so—”

  “Oh, fuck. Are you fucking serious? Sorry,” I added quickly.

  “No need to apologize. Swear all you want. It’s an awful s
ituation,” Stephanie said.

  “Yeah, it is.” My voice was thick, and my throat ached.

  “What brought all this up?”

  “Mae and I went out a few times. She shut me down after that, but we’d been really good friends before, and I didn't know what had happened. When I found out about a job in her hometown, I took it, hoping to reconnect.”

  “Aw, that's kind of sweet,” Stephanie said.

  “What's sweet?”

  “That you never could forget her.”

  I leaned back into the couch, running a hand through my hair. “No, I couldn't. And now I don't know what to do. Should I tell her what I know now?”

  Stephanie let out a heavy sigh. “I don't know, but I don't know how you can keep it a secret if you want to be her friend or more.”

  “Oh, god. This is bad.”

  “You're a good man, Rowan. You always were one of the nice guys.”

  “I try to be.” It almost hurt to speak.

  “You have no good choices, but I think you have to tell her what you know. And if she hates you for it, you're just gonna have to live with it.”

  “Great advice,” I said dryly, feeling helpless.

  I’d wanted to know what happened, and now I wished I could forget.

  Stephanie’s voice was warm and understanding. “The truth will set you free, or something like that.”

  “Yeah. Well, how are you?”

  “Doing pretty well, all things considered. Maybe you should sweep her off her feet or something. Show her there are good men in the world.”

  “There are plenty of good men in the world, but there are lots of assholes. Chet was the worst,” I muttered, anger spinning into the distress and pain echoing inside.

  “Yeah, he was. You guys gave up a sweet apartment just so he wouldn't be your roommate anymore.”

  “I know, right? It's fucking ridiculous, but that's how bad he was.”

  “Good luck with this, whatever happens. Can you do me a favor?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Tell me how she's doing. And if it works out okay, I want to know.”

  “You got it.”

  At that, she returned the phone to Darryl, who also wished me luck before we ended the call.

  I set the phone on the coffee table, resting my elbows on my knees and tunneling my hands through my hair with a ragged sigh. This was a doozy.

  I didn't know what to do. I knew that if I told Mae before we had dinner, we would never have dinner. I didn't want to bring it up at dinner. I was going to have to wing it. I honestly had no idea how I was going to tell her what I knew. I felt beyond awful.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mae

  Rowan was nervous, which seemed out of character. I was the anxious one, and he wasn't supposed to be nervous. For maybe the sixth time tonight since we sat down at the table, he slid his palms over the tops of his thighs. The brushing sound was subtle over the denim.

  The Gallery Café was chic but relaxed. Artwork from the gallery decorated the walls. The space had a tall ceiling with windows looking out over a marshy field. Dusk was leaching the light away. The mountains were cast in pink and lavender, alpenglow against the inky blue sky.

  I took a sip of my water and glanced around the restaurant. Wooden tables with colorful placemats and tablecloths filled the space. The décor was modern with a touch of whimsy.

  When my gaze made its way back to Rowan, my question slipped out, “What's wrong?”

  He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

  I knew him well enough to know he was hedging. “You're nervous or something. What's up? You're not usually like this.”

  His eyes closed, and he took a breath as he opened them. “Nothing.”

  “Okay, don't bullshit me.” My belly felt funny, and uncertainty slid through me. “Just say what’s wrong.”

  “Uh, now is not a good time,” he returned.

  As I studied him, I knew. I didn’t know how I knew. But I knew he knew.

  “How do you know?” My next question slipped out, my voice a little ragged on the edges as my heart thumped sickly inside my chest.

  If there was one thing I was an expert at in life, it was tolerating this very feeling—this feeling of awfulness, of a secret that I hated, this feeling of knowing that it was mine to carry forever even as I labored to cast the weight off.

  “Fuck.” His voice was sharp. “I'm sorry.”

  “It's obviously not your fault,” I said calmly, literally feeling as if metal walls were falling down around me, like scales on an armadillo.

  “Why didn't you tell me then?” he whispered hoarsely.

  I couldn’t even look at him and stared down at the tablecloth, tracing my fingertips along the hem. “Because I didn't want to tell you. I don't want you to know now,” I said, my voice perfectly controlled even though I felt cold inside.

  I didn’t want to, but I looked up. Rowan's intense green eyes searched my face before he dipped his chin slowly. “I know you don’t. I’m sorry.”

  “How do you know? Tell me how you found out,” I demanded.

  For some reason, I really needed to know this part.

  He took a breath, letting it out swiftly. “What happened always bothered me, and I didn't even know what happened. All I knew is that we were friends, and I totally had a crush on you. We finally went out, and then your roommate hit on me, which fucking sucked. And then, I know that you know nothing ever happened.”

  I nodded because it was true. It's just because of what happened to me that night. I couldn't deal with facing anyone connected to Chet, and Rowan had been his roommate.

  “Then you just stopped talking to me. And honestly, I couldn't forget you. I looked for you, but you just disappeared.”

  “I didn't disappear,” I whispered, my heart feeling cracked open.

  “Okay, maybe you didn't disappear, but you sure didn't make it easy to find you. You never answered my texts, you never answered my emails, you never answered my calls. And then, when this job opened up out here, I thought maybe we could reconnect, and I could finally figure out what the hell I did wrong.”

  I couldn't lie to myself. It was bittersweet realizing that I'd meant as much to him as he had to me. Sometimes, things happen that ruin everything. The debris field left behind is so big that it encompasses other events and people, and everything gets destroyed. That’s what happened to Rowan and me.

  He stared at me quietly. “I would never hurt you.”

  My heart thumped painfully. I couldn’t protect myself from my emotions. I took a gulp of icy water, clinging to the cold glass as if it would somehow get me through this.

  Rowan continued, “I wasn't going to say this tonight here at dinner because obviously this isn't a good place.”

  I rolled my eyes, calling on some kind of composure to help me keep it together. Somehow, the shields around my heart held.

  “I reached out to Darryl. I knew something weird had happened, but I just didn't know what. And, you know, he's married to Stephanie.”

  Ah, so that’s how he found out. Stephanie knew. “So, they're still together?” I asked because that was a safe topic.

  He nodded, his lips moving into the form of a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Happily married. I guess they already have one kid, about to have the next.”

  Another sip of water. “Good for them. They were a good couple.”

  “I would never hurt you, Mae. I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse, and I could feel the sense of helplessness emanating from him. Rowan liked to fix things, to take care of things. He couldn’t fix this.

  “I know, Rowan. You’re the best kind of guy. It’s just—” I waved my hand in the air because I didn't even know how to explain it, and the feelings that kind of got stuck on him. It was like when tires burned on the pavement.

  “I'm really sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing for something you had nothing to do with.”

  “Why did you
stop talking to me? I would’ve helped you. I would’ve fucking kicked his ass.”

  My chest ached, and emotion was knotted painfully in my throat. “You were a domino in the series of events. If I’d never been at the party, it never would’ve happened. I just wanted to forget everybody connected to him.” I couldn’t even say Chet’s name out loud. Not now. I feared if I did, I’d fall apart right here.

  “What about now?” he asked.

  “I wouldn't be having dinner with you if you were still a domino in my mind.”

  “I was in love with you. I still am,” he said, his tone completely serious.

  I had just taken a swallow of water and almost spat it out. “What?” I yelped after I grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the table and my mouth.

  His gaze was solemn as he stared at me. “It's true.”

  “Oh. Well, that sucks.”

  “It sucks?” A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At my nod, he added, “I kept texting and calling, and then I stopped because I didn't want to be stalkery.”

  “Stalkery? Is that a word.”

  “For the moment, it works.” I couldn’t look away from his eyes even though it hurt.

  My heart felt as if someone had scored it deeply with a knife. My defenses cracked. It felt as if a hairline fracture was somewhere in my psyche. In all of the defenses I'd built, Rowan was the fracture, or rather Rowan knowing what happened was.

  “I just have one question,” he said.

  “Just one?”

  “Okay, maybe more, but one for now.” When I nodded, he asked, “Did you care as much as I did and still do?”

  Oh, hell. I didn’t know if I could hold my tears at bay. I closed my eyes and took a breath before I nodded, just once, really fast. Opening them, I collided instantly with his patient gaze. “I don't know if I knew I was in love with you, but you were that guy, the one I really wanted it to be okay with.”

  It was taking a lot of effort to keep those defenses up, but I managed because we were at a restaurant. I was actually relieved when the server showed up. She was in a hurry because the place was crowded. “Hi, how are we doing on the menu?”

  Rowan's eyes held mine. I could tell he was waiting to see if I wanted more time. I didn't. I really needed to order some food. Even if I didn't think I could eat, I needed something to do with my hands.