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Chapter thirty-eight

Rebecca

Those were the hardest words of my life to utter. Definitely a top five worst moment. But it had to be done. It’s the only way to protect him and Hazel.

I will myself to walk away from the door and back to the couch where I sink down onto it. Peaches must sense something’s wrong because she comes over and lies in my lap.

“He might very well have been the love of my life,” I tell my cat.

Saying it out loud has me crying hysterically again. But it was the right thing to do.

It’s all my fault his ex was stalking him, and now that I’m out of the picture, maybe she’ll leave him alone.

Regardless of what anyone has told me, bad things happen to the people I love. I was starting to believe that that wasn’t the truth, until this. The last thing I want is for Holt and his family to be in danger because of me.

Lying down on the couch, I pull the blanket over me. I snuggle Peaches against my chest, and for once, she doesn’t try to squirm away. I will myself to fall asleep so I don’t have to think about how heartbroken I feel.

Hours later, I jolt awake, blinking my eyes open, unsure of what woke me. My apartment is darker now, meaning it must be late afternoon. I shouldn’t be shocked I slept most of the day since I didn’t really sleep last night. I sit up, pushing the blanket off me, and peel my robe off.

Someone knocks on my door. I groan. Who is it that? Maybe they’ll go away. I lie back down on the couch, sans blanket, but the person knocks again. With a huff, I get up, then I peek through the peephole before pulling the door open.

“Sutton, what are you doing here?”

“So you are alive.” She puts her hands on her hips. “We were supposed to have lunch.”

“Shit.” I run a hand over my face. “I’m sorry. Today hasn’t been the greatest day.” I give her a small smile.

“I know.” She gives me a once-over, and I’m sure I look like a wreck.

“You know?”

She blows out a breath. “Hadley called me.” She frowns. “She said you and Holt ended things. I thought she was joking. Then you wouldn’t answer my calls. So I came by. Can I come in?”

In answer I step back and hold the door open wider for her.

“What happened?” she asks.

I head toward the kitchen, and she follows behind me. I grab a cup off the drainboard and fill it with ice and water from the fridge.

“Want some?”

She shakes her head, taking a seat on a barstool. I gulp down half of my water before setting the cup on the counter.

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

“Fine. But it’s probably better if I show you.” I pick up the envelope with the pictures and note in it. “Here.” I say, handing it to her.

She glances between me and the envelope a few times before finally pulling out the contents and silently flipping through them.

She whistles. “You have got to be kidding me?”

“Nope.”

“Did you show these to Holt? We’re pretty sure Kat is behind the rumor that he’s being traded.

We couldn’t do anything about it except dispute it.

She didn’t break any laws telling SportsCenter.

Whoever believed her is an idiot, but that’s besides the point.

But this”—she shakes the envelope—“she’s stalking you guys.

At the very least you need to file a police report. Her letter is threatening.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

I tug at my messy bun, adjusting it on the top of my head. The one thing I regretted after he left was not showing him the photographs and the letter. I should have. He deserves to know the whole story. I know that now.

“I need to, even if he ends up hating me even more when he finds out. It’s all my fault she’s doing this.”

Sutton sets the photos down, slides off her stool, and walks around to me. She puts her arms on my shoulders and takes a deep breath.

“He is not going to hate you.”

I drop my head, staring at the floor. “He already does.”

Sutton surprises me by pulling me into her arms. “Love makes us behave irrationally to protect those we love. You did what you did to protect Holt and Hazel. He’ll understand once he hears the entire story.”

I pull back so I can meet her eyes. “Thank you, Sutton.”

“Of course. That’s what besties are for. To talk sense into us when we’re not thinking straight.”

“Are we besties now?”

She bounces her eyebrows at me. “I’d say after this”—she gestures between us and then points at the envelope on the counter—“we probably are.”

I huff out a laugh, stepping out of her embrace. “Well then, I should probably tell you I think you should let Sebastian take you out. He tries so hard.”

She shakes her head, holding up a hand. “Nope. Not going there. Sebastian and I will never be. Besides, this intervention is about you, Rebecca, not me.”

“Becca. All the people closest to me call me Becca.”

She smiles at me. “Well then, Becca, I say you’ve got a man to go talk to.” She wrinkles her nose, her gaze going down to my worn out oversized gray shirt and tatty navy blue sweatpants. “Maybe after you shower and change. ”

“Noted.”

We chat for a few more minutes before she says she needs to go, and I promise to call her after I talk to Holt.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you and Sebastian,” I tell her before shutting the door behind her.

She just shakes her head in response.

I head toward my bathroom to take a shower, really hoping I didn’t screw everything up beyond repair between me and Holt.