Page 94 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start

My phone buzzes. Scott’s name appears.

“How’s Michelle handling the news?” No hello, just straight to business.

“About how you’d expect.”

“Which means?”

“She’s not speaking to me.”

Dead silence. “Grayson, please tell me you explained about Norris’ threat.”

“I couldn’t. It would destroy her to know that trusting me made her vulnerable again.”

“So you let her think you’re exactly like him instead?”

The accusation hits hard. “I was protecting her.”

“You were protecting yourself from having to see her hurt. There’s a difference.”

I start to argue, then stop. Sitting here watching Michelle through windows I can’t cross, Scott’s words ring true.

“She doesn’t know why you did it,” Scott continues. “All she knows is that when things got complicated, you picked business over her. Sound familiar?”

David Norris. The ex who stole her ideas and left her convinced that mixing business with feelings always ended in betrayal.

I just proved her right.

“I need to explain?—”

“You need to figure out what you’re actually apologizing for first.”

The line goes dead. I’m left staring at the woman I love, watching her serve coffee to a community I was supposed to help protect. She looks tired, her usual bright energy dimmed to something that barely resembles the Michelle who kissed me three days ago.

I reach for my phone and call her.

Straight to voicemail.

“Michelle, it’s me. I know you’re angry, but we need to talk. Yesterday wasn’t what it seemed. I was trying to protect?—”

Beep.Twenty seconds don’t leave room for explanations about threats and terrible choices.

I call again. Voicemail again.

By the third call, she’s screening me out completely, deleting my voice from her life with the efficiency of practiced heartbreak.

The coffee shop door opens. Jessica emerges, scanning the parking lot until she spots my truck. Her expression could melt steel as she marches across the asphalt with the stride of a person about to deliver a lecture I won’t enjoy.

I roll down the window.

“What is wrong with you?” No preamble, no pleasantries.

“Good morning to you too, Jessica.”

“Don’t you dare ‘good morning’ me. Michelle spent half the night crying because she thinks you used her feelings to get her support for your project.”

The accusation carries Michelle’s pain. “That’s not what happened.”

“Then what did happen? Because from where I’m sitting, you spent weeks getting her to trust you, convincing her to work together, and then the second things got complicated, you tossed her aside.”