“She came by the office.Toldme you weren’t being honest.Saidthis”—he lifted the folder—“would show me who you really are.”
Rose swallowed hard.“Didyou read it?”
“No,” he said.“Notyet.”
Her breath caught.
“ButIthought about it,” he admitted.“BecauseIlike you,Rose.Alot.AndIdidn’t want to believe she had anythingIdidn’t already know.”
She leaned against the counter, feeling every ounce of the weight she carried.
“She’s trying to ruin me,”Rosesaid quietly.“She’salways been good at it.Shewas my best friend, and when she realizedIlovedAcenback in high school, really loved him, she made sure to get to him and mess that up with a pack of lies.Andwhen he left… when everything fell apart, she didn’t stop.Shetwisted the story.Kepttwisting it, hoping it would break me.”
Declan nodded slowly.“Acensaid something happened.Thatshe was behind it.Butit’s hard to know what’s truth and what’s just… emotion.”
“You want the truth?”Rose’svoice was steadier now.“Iwas pregnant.Ilost the baby.Andshe knew—sheusedit against me to keep me quiet.”
Declan’s expression shifted from skeptical to stunned.“You… what?”
“I never told anyone,” she said.“Icouldn’t.Iwas ashamed.IthoughtI’ddone something wrong.AndwhenBrianamade it clear she’d turn it into a town scandal,Ijust… shut it all down.Istayed here.Ilet her win.”
Declan’s gaze dropped to the folder in his hands.
“I didn’t want to believe her,” he said.“ButIalso didn’t want to feel like a fool.”
“You’re not,”Rosesaid softly.“Butyou deserve the full story.Evenif it’s ugly.”
He looked at her for a long moment.Then, without a word, he turned and walked to the trash can near the door.
He dropped the folder in without opening it.
And walked back to her.
“I believe you,” he said.
Rose blinked.“Evenwithout proof?”
“Especially without it.Becauseit’s not just what you said—it’s how you said it.AndbecauseI’veseen whoBrianais when she thinks no one’s watching.”
Her throat tightened.
“I’m sorry she tried to use me,” he added.“AndI’msorryIdidn’t come to you first.”
“You’re here now.”
He gave her a small, sincere smile.“AndI’mnot going anywhere.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
ThePickwickYachtClubon aThursdaynight was the closest thing the town had to sophistication.Itsheavy velvet curtains blocked out the streetlamps, the chandeliers gleamed soft gold, and the white-tablecloth tables glowed like snowdrifts in the low lighting.Peoplecame for the steak, but they stayed for the talk.Everyoneknew that.
Briana leaned over a glass of wine, her voice low and sugar-slicked as she chatted withMarleneGreaves—who just so happened to run the town’s gossip column.
“Rose?”Brianasaid with a tinkling laugh.“Oh, bless her heart.She’sbeen through so much.Butyou know what they say—some people thrive on drama.Ijust hope she knows how to protect her business.Small-town reputations are so delicate.”
Marlene leaned in.“Whatare you saying, dear?”
Briana offered a helpless shrug.“I’dnever say a word out of turn.But… some people might want to know who they’re buying their coffee from.Especiallyif there are secrets.Old… scandals.”
