The fear was real.Butso was her determination.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Declan stood behind the counter of his veterinary office, sorting through a box of dog vitamins when the door opened andBrianaswept in.
She wore a cream-colored dress and a smile that could melt asphalt.
“I brought you something,” she said, holding up a folder.
“What is it?”
“Just… some context,” she said innocently.“Afew thingsIthought you should see.AboutRose.”
Declan didn’t take it.
“What kind of things?”
“Oh, nothing dramatic.”Sheplaced the folder on the counter.“Justhistory.Afew diary passages, some old messages.Littlereminders that the version ofRoseyou’re seeing now?It’snot the full picture.”
He narrowed his eyes.“Whywould you give me this?”
“BecauseIlike you,” she said simply.“AndIhate watching good men get dragged into messy lies.I’vebeen on the losing end of that story before.”
“Were you?”he asked, coldly.
She tilted her head.“Areyou saying youdon’twant to know the truth?”
Declan looked down at the folder.Hisjaw flexed.
“No,” he said finally.“Iwant to hear it fromher.Notyou.”
Briana’s smile faltered just a hair.Thenit came back, brighter than ever.
“Suit yourself.Justdon’t sayIdidn’t try.”
She turned and walked out, heels clicking like punctuation marks.
Declan stared at the folder.
And even though he didn’t open it?—
Doubt had already crept in.
Rose was restockingthe coffee shop’s muffin bin when the bell above the door rang.Shelooked up with a practiced smile—one that faltered the moment she sawDeclanstanding there.
He looked tired.Moreserious than usual.Andhe was holding a manila folder.
Her stomach dropped.
“Hey,” she said cautiously.“Everythingokay?”
Declan didn’t answer right away.Hestepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him.Thebakery was quiet—between lunch and after dinner rush, with only the hum of the cooler to fill the silence.
“I think you already know whyI’mhere,” he said.
She wiped her hands on a towel.“Thatfolder.Briana?”
He nodded once.
