Page 47 of Under Locke & Key

“I miss you, Bryce. I didn’t realize how much until you were gone.

I wanted to reach out so many times but pride got in my way.

I promised myself that if there was a sign—if something came along that showed you’d taken my words to heart there might be another chance for us—and I would try again.

Then I heard about the business and you forging your own path.

No longer complacent but ready to take on the world.

I knew it was time.” Steph ignores my attempt to pull away and instead she holds my forearms in each of her hands and pries my arms open, forcing me into a more vulnerable position.

She smells the same. It’s been over a year since we’ve had anything resembling a relationship but I can’t deny that there’s something about that familiar cloying sweet scent that disgusts me now.

How is this happening? Why now? I would have begged to have her coming after me when I first started this. It’s too late. I open my mouth to say so, ready to set the record straight.

But she goes up onto her toes, and with the help of her heels she’s much closer to me in height than she would have been otherwise.

Removing my glasses and threading her hand into my hair with the other hand, she lurches forward to lay her lips onto mine.

Shock slows my responses and although I am too frozen to shove her off of me, I have the wherewithal to turn my head.

Her kiss deflects, more on the side of my chin than my mouth, but there’s contact.

“ What the hell was that, Steph ?” I ask, removing her hands from my person.

Before she can answer another voice sounds in the small space, a mere whisper but it’s enough for both of us to turn.

“ Steph ?” Rachel asks, or rather repeats with some kind of alarming note in her voice.

She sounds confused and hurt. I wish I still had my glasses on so I can see the expression on her face to make it easier to analyze.

Though I don’t really need to. If the situation were reversed I have a pretty good idea of what I’d be feeling right now.

She’s turned on her heel and is leaving by the time I’ve stepped away from Steph and toward the doorway.

Steph’s hand grips my arm again, nails digging into the skin and whatever lingering comfort or familiarity that made me put my guard down is nowhere to be found.

“You better not be here when I come back. You ended this—us—and there’s no place for you in my life.”

She sputters, “Don’t be like this. This isn’t you.”

I give a bitter chuckle, one that rises from the pit in my stomach—worsening with every second I’m delayed in going after Rachel.

“I don’t give a damn about your opinion or about how you think I am or should be.

You don’t have the right anymore. You made your bed, and I’m not in it.

I won’t ever be again. There’s no big sign from the universe or a swell of romantic music that’s supposed to set the scene for a reunion.

I meant what I said. Leave. Get the hell out.

Or I will have you ejected from the premises.

” I don’t wait for a response, plucking my glasses from her grip and tearing through the theater but Rachel’s already gone.

I rush out onto the sidewalk. She’s already two blocks ahead and I can see her ponytail swinging from all the way over here. She's rushing with so much force. Jogging, cursing each traffic light that prevents me from following her—reaching her.

By the time I make it to that robin’s egg blue door she’s nowhere to be seen. But at least she didn’t lock the door. I press inside, the wood sticking slightly with the humidity, and head upstairs.

I take the fact that this door isn’t locked either as a good thing. Maybe she didn’t expect me to come after her. Or she’s inside and waiting to lay into me. Not knowing isn’t enough to freeze me though, not with something this important.

Everything is as I left it this morning.

The dishes from last night’s dinner are still on the drying rack, forgotten in favor of kissing our way toward the bedroom.

The decorative paperweight she picked up from the antique mall sits on the kitchen counter.

Her bedroom door is open, if the light spilling into the hallway is any indicator and I swallow up the distance between the entryway and her bedroom in mere strides.

The bed is made, barely. Still a little rumpled. And Rachel is nowhere to be found. My heart sinks into my abdomen as I walk back toward the living space, peering into the bathroom and coming up empty again.

I’m about to sink down onto the floor from the heft of my panic when I hear it—the tiniest inhalation, shaky with tears, coming from the couch. Rachel is curled up so tightly I missed her on my first frantic surveyance.

Her large eyes look up at me and my chest aches at the sight of her crying and the doubt there.

“Rachel, please talk to me.” I can’t let this ruin things. I’m sure this conversation will suck, if she even is open to one, but I need to sort this out now before it’s too late and she’s had time to dwell.

She wipes her tears away with the back of her knuckles and takes a fortifying breath. “So, that’s your ex?”

“Yeah.”

“What was she doing in Dulaney?” In the theater goes unsaid but we both know what she means.

“She heard about the business from one of the bankers I spoke to initially and thought it was a sign to invade my life.”

“It seems like a lot of effort to track you down. It must be very important to her.” Rachel sniffles and her lips thin. She juts out her chin and I love that she’s trying to be stubborn even with the tip of her nose being red and her cheeks shiny with tears.

“I couldn’t care less about what is or isn’t important to her. This is about you and me.” I say and my voice shakes a little as fear climbs up my ribcage.

“About that. What exactly is this—you and me? We’ve been skirting around it for so long but the opening is here and my position was only ever to set Locke Box up.

Where do we go from here? Because the prospect of being broke and unemployed in a few weeks is terrifying.

” Rachel sits in the corner of the sofa, tucking her knees up to her chest and holding them there as if it will keep her together.

“What do you want it to be? I’m not good at this.

I’ve had almost no experience with relationships outside of Stephanie and that imploded so I’m not about to follow that blueprint.

I’ve been trying to take it a day at a time and give you the space to decide what you want because I’m scared I’ll make a mess of things again. ”

“I don’t know. I’ve been freaking out for a while now and I just got an email from my old boss offering me the job that should have been mine in the first place.

And all I am is confused. Do I go back, take back my lease, and follow the path that I’ve been on since I started college or .

. . do I risk everything safe on something that isn’t guaranteed?

” Her words fell me and that insidious voice that loves to whisper that I’m not enough, that I’ll never be enough, pipes up.

Why would she pick me? She’s got what she wanted. The validation she’d been missing is here and they’re eating crow.

Then again. Am I not in the same boat with Stephanie? Finally noticing me? Finally finding me worthy of her time? Somehow it lacked the luster I expected.

I know who I choose. What I choose. It’s this stunning woman that blew into my life when I was at my lowest and now I want to share every joy with her. Maybe she could feel the same.

“I know it’s scary. Trust me, I do. I know that thing in there with Steph looks bad.

I know it must be incredibly gratifying to have your old boss have to reach out to you, to come crawling back to eat crow.

But if the only thing holding you back from taking the risk is whether or not I—we— are guaranteed, then don’t let it.

I’m in this if you are. If you want to keep working at the escape room, great.

If you want to look for something else, great. Just do it in Dulaney. Do it with me.”

Rachel rises from her spot on the sofa, approaching me carefully. Those big brown eyes swallow me whole and all I can do is breathe, words hanging between us.

“You’re right. I am scared. But I’ve been scared for months.

It’s just finally come to a head and I don’t want to .

. . I don’t want to make the wrong move and lose everything I’ve worked for.

Because it feels like I will. Whatever I choose there will be consequences.

It all comes down to what I’m not willing to let go of,” Rachel says.

“I’m not going to rush you into any choice right now.

I just wanted you to know that nothing has changed for me.

I’m still the same person I was when I woke up beside you this morning.

Stephanie doesn’t change that. She doesn’t affect my choice.

Please, take the time to think it through so you’re totally sure of what you want, but at least come to the opening.

You put in just as much work as I have. You should celebrate it too.

Don’t let whatever questions and fears sit between us deprive you of enjoying the culmination of these last few months.

” I pull it off. Even though telling her it’s okay if she chooses something other than what I desperately want to share with her makes me want to throw up, I manage. Because it’s the right thing to do.