3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Bella
I freeze when I see him standing there, tall and unmistakable, in the doorway of my shop: Ryan Blackwood, Caleb’s older brother. The brother I never thought I’d see again—at least not here, not like this.
What is he doing here?
I’d heard he was back in town. Marlene mentioned it in passing, as she often does when she has news worth sharing, but I hadn’t expected to actually run into him. Ryan Blackwood isn’t the kind of person you bump into on a normal day. No, he’s too arrogant for that. He’s the type who thinks himself above mingling with the rest of us mere mortals.
He’s taller than I remembered, his frame lean but solid. The stretch of muscles beneath his shirt is hard to miss, and for a split second, I wonder when exactly he had the time to trade his scrawny build for… this .
His eyes lock onto mine, and there’s no mistaking that he recognizes me. I catch a flicker of something in his expression, though he quickly masks it with that infuriatingly cool, unreadable face of his.
I force myself to snap out of it. No way am I giving him the satisfaction of seeing me fazed.
“Ryan,” I say as I school my features into what I hope looks like polite disinterest. “What brings you here?”
His lips curve into a faint smirk, and a familiar irritation burns in my chest. “I could ask you the same thing,” he says, stepping farther into the café. His gaze sweeps over the place like he’s sizing it up or judging it.
I ignore the comment and gesture toward a nearby table.
“You might as well sit, if you’re staying.”
He hesitates for a moment. It’s almost like he thinks sitting down in a place like this is beneath him, but he eventually lowers himself into the chair. “Nice place,” he says, though his tone makes it hard to tell if he means it.
I bite back a snort and busy myself behind the counter. It’s unnervingly quiet. With him being my only customer at the moment, I’m all too aware of his eyes following my every move.
“What can I get you?” I ask without bothering to meet his gaze.
“Coffee,” he says.
I don’t press for details. He doesn’t strike me as the type to care whether his coffee comes with caramel drizzle or oat milk foam. Instead, I focus on pouring the brew and ignore how unsteady my hands feel.
As I set the cup down before him, he clears his throat. “How is the café doing?”
“Why do you care?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
He doesn’t flinch. If anything, he looks amused. “Just making conversation.”
I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “You seem more concerned about the café than your nephew.”
His jaw tightens, and for a second, I think I’ve struck a nerve.
“I’ve tried,” he says, his voice quieter but no less firm. “But you’ve said that you don’t want my help. So what’s the point?”
“That’s rich. Helping me isn’t the same as meeting him, Ryan. Luke doesn’t even know who you are.”
His eyes narrow, and there’s a sharp edge to his tone when he replies. “Whose fault is that?”
“You can’t just waltz in here after all this time and act like it’s my fault. Caleb walked away. Not me.”
Ryan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. His calmness is annoying me. “And I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces ever since,” he says, his voice controlled but cold. “Or did you forget the times I offered to help?”
My lips press into a tight line. Of course I haven’t forgotten. He showed up several times after Caleb left me high and dry, always with the same gruff, no-nonsense offer. Each time, I refused.
“You mean the times you barged in and acted like you could fix everything with a checkbook and a bossy attitude?”
His eyes darken, but he doesn’t deny it. “I was trying to help, even if you were too stubborn to see it.”
“Stubborn?” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s funny, coming from you. You’re the most arrogant, overbearing person I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re the most infuriatingly proud,” he retorts without missing a beat.
The air in the shop feels thick on my skin. We’ve not even spent ten minutes together and have already fallen into our old habits. We can’t be in the same room without clashing.
I take a deep breath to try to calm my frustration. It’s no use. Ryan always had a way of getting under my skin without even trying, and that clearly hasn’t changed.
“You don’t get it, Ryan. I didn’t need your help then, and I don’t need it now.”
“Could’ve fooled me. This place looks like it’s barely hanging on.”
The comment stings more than I’d like to admit, but I refuse to let him see it. “If you’re just here to criticize me, you can leave,” I snap.
He holds my gaze momentarily, then sighs and leans back in his seat. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
His lips twitch, but the almost-smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I genuinely wanted to know how you were doing. That’s all.”
For a moment, the sincerity in his voice throws me off balance. It doesn’t erase the frustration, but it softens the edges just a little.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly.
Ryan leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”
I shake my head. “I’m not some charity case, Ryan. I can handle myself.”
“Is that so?” His voice is skeptical, but there’s no malice in it.
“Yes, it is.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence stretches between us until he finally breaks it.
“Luke…how’s he doing?”
The question catches me off guard, and I glance at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. But he looks genuinely curious—concerned, even.
“He’s fine,” I say, my voice softer now. “He’s a good kid.”
Ryan nods as a small, almost invisible smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
The unexpected compliment throws me off, and I’m unsure how to respond.
“Well,” I say after a moment, straightening up. “If you’re done with your coffee, I’ve got work to do.”
Ryan stands, towering over me as he adjusts his jacket. “I’ll see you around, Bella.”
I watch as he walks out. Even after he’s gone, I still feel quite unsteady. The man is as infuriating as I remember, and just as impossible to ignore.
Two other customers walk in, and soon Ryan Blackwood is the last thing on my mind.
I’ve got bigger problems in life, and one of them is my landlord, who seems to think I’m his unpaid assistant. He keeps bugging me with outrageous bills like it’s my full-time job to deal with his nonsense.
“I’m not home, Glenn!” I snap, balancing my phone between my ear and shoulder while wrestling with the jammed bathroom door at work. “If I were home, we could talk about this. But you know I’m working right now.”
Glenn mutters something insulting, though I can’t quite make it out since he’s chewing loudly on a mouthful of food. The muffled noise doesn’t help, but I can guess it wasn’t anything pleasant.
“Listen, Glenn, I told you I’ll pay, and I will. The business is doing fine. And no, I’m not doing any… favors for you.”
I end the call and, after a moment’s thought, switch my phone to silent.
What a disgusting creep.
If he weren’t offering such cheap rent, I wouldn’t have to deal with his repulsive face.
I splash water on my face at the sink and dry off with a handful of paper towels. My fingers rake through my hair as I glance at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes tell the story of endless eighteen-hour workdays.
My tired gray eyes stare back at me. My hands move to my hair, brushing against the uneven edges. Lacy, my best friend, keeps nagging me to fix it, but it’s much easier to take kitchen scissors to my thick red hair when it gets too long.
I’ve never liked my hair long. As a kid, I remember the workers at the orphanage yanking me down the stairs by it. They said it was my fault my family died in a car crash, and I only survived because I was a witch. That’s why I was a redhead, according to them. It didn’t matter that I was only a year-old baby when it happened. The first thing I did when I got away from that horrible place was cut my hair short. No one can grab it now. No one can use it to hurt me.
I sigh and keep looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
“I’m not ugly,” I tell the uncertain face staring back at me. My pale skin is flushed from the cold water, and my high cheekbones are bare without makeup. But my mouth feels too big, and I still don’t like the mole above my upper lip.
Still, I wouldn’t go as far as to call myself ugly.
“So why can’t I find a decent man?” I grumble into the empty room. “Twenty-nine years, and people still think of me as the woman who was left at the altar. It’s just downright humiliating.”
Of course, my reflection doesn’t have any useful answers. I shake my head, grab a handful of dry tissues, and go to work away my troubles.
But I should know by now that my troubles always have a way of finding me.
***
“Mommy, where are you?”
I’m jiggling the rusting lock on my apartment door after a quick change out of my work clothes, but I answer. “I’m two streets away from Lacy’s place, baby. I’ll pick you up soon.”
Luke sounds tired. Lacy must’ve worn him out with all the toys and games she bought him last Christmas. It worked, though. On a normal day, Luke would have been making Lacy call me over at five. Right now, it’s almost seven. The call ends, and I jiggle harder.
“You’re not looking great these days, Bella.”
As I finally lock the door, I glance over my shoulder and feel disgusted when I see Glenn loitering in the hallway. “What do you want, Glenn?”
“I’ve been leaving you messages—”
“And I already gave you half the money.” I shove the key into my bag. After his call earlier, I had to ask Lacy for help, and she sent me some cash.
He steps closer, and it takes everything in me not to grab him by the throat. Glenn blocks my way. “I know money’s tight for you. I could let you slide on rent for a few months…if you give me something in return.”
I push past him, heading down the stairs and out the door. “I’m not sleeping with you, Glenn. I’ll find a way to pay the rent.”
But Glenn isn’t the type to back off, especially now that he’s managed to corner me after I’ve spent weeks dodging him.
He follows close behind me, his slimy grin making my stomach turn. “What about just a few favors?”
“I said no,” I snap, my voice low but firm. I despise him more than ever, especially since he has no problem saying this out loud in the middle of the street.
“You’re acting like men are lining up for you!” he sneers. “You’re pathetic!”
I stop and glare at him, my patience gone. “Listen, Glenn, pick a lane. I can’t be both a prude and whatever else you think I am. Either way, it’s not happening. You’re disgusting, and the thought of you makes my skin crawl.”
I walk away, hoping Glenn will finally take the hint, but he’s like a stubborn leech.
“Two months’ rent if you suck me off. Promise!” he calls after me.
I’m about to snap at him when another voice cuts in.
“So that’s how you’re paying rent. No wonder you got left at the altar.”
I whip my head around and spot a group of teenagers standing nearby, watching me with sneers on their faces.
I’m not even shocked. They’ve been making it their mission to mess with anyone they see as weak.
“What do you want?” I ask sharply. I’m not in the mood for this.
They’re all pretty in that overly polished, mean-girl kind of way-perfect hair, red lips, flawless skin. Or maybe they just appear that way to me because I find them annoying.
The women exchange glances and smirk before their leader steps forward, her voice dripping with mockery.
“Not really. We were passing by when Tiana mentioned we should confirm why your fiancée ditched you on your wedding day.” She laughs lightly, covering her mouth in a fake show of modesty, her eyes sharp and cruel. “I mean, there had to be something wrong with you. Something missing. But now I get it—it’s not just your looks fading.”
The others laugh at her words while I stay quiet, my lips pressed into a tight line.
“Are you finished?” I ask flatly.
She shrugs casually. “Not really. Who knew the real reason he left was because you’re a whore? Sleeping with your landlord to save on rent? That’s just pathetic.”
The group erupts into laughter. I stare at them, unflinching.
Do they think this will hurt me? After five years of hearing the same tired insults?
I notice the flicker of irritation in their eyes when I don’t take the bait.
I take a deep breath and step closer to the group, and then I start with a calm but firm tone. “You know, it’s funny. You stand here, throwing insults at me like it’s a sport, but has it ever occurred to you to look at your own lives? To focus on your insecurities instead of trying to make everyone else feel as miserable as you clearly do?”
Their laughter dies down and is immediately replaced by defensive frowns.
The leader narrows her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“No, you don’t get to excuse yourself from this,” I say sharply. “It’s not just today. You’ve made it a habit to prey on anyone who doesn’t live up to your shallow standards. Why? Does it make you feel better about your boring, unfulfilled lives? Or are you terrified of people seeing through the perfect little act you’ve got going on?”
They exchange uneasy glances. It’s a little awkward exchanging words with silly teenagers. I know how it looks, but I won’t back down.
“I’m not ashamed of who I am, and no amount of your childish insults will change that. Do you think my life is easy? Go ahead, laugh it up. But here’s what you don’t know. You’d crumble under half the pressure I face every day. So instead of standing here, wasting time trying to hurt me—and failing, of course—why don’t you try working on yourselves for once?”
The leader steps back slightly, clearly rattled, but she rolls her eyes to cover it up. “Whatever,” she scoffs, and motions to her posse. “Let’s get out of here.”
They strut away. I see them trying to maintain their superiority, but I catch the tension in their steps. I can’t help but smirk as I watch them leave.
Turning to Glenn, I square my shoulders. He looks uncomfortable now, as if realizing he’ll be next.
“And you,” I say, my voice colder now. This one is an adult, so there’s no excuse for how he treats me. “You’re no better. I don’t care what you think of me or what disgusting offers you think are okay to throw my way. I’ll pay you your money, and after that, I never want to hear from you again. Do you understand?”
Glenn’s face reddens, and he stumbles over his words. “I-I was just joking, Bella. Don’t take it so seriously.”
I shake my head, disgusted. “You don’t get to hide behind that excuse. You’ve crossed every line, and I won’t put up with it anymore. Get ready for this month’s rent, and after that, we’re done.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk away, leaving him standing there like the fool he is.
I blink back the tears that cloud my vision the second I turn away, making a mental note to get a new place by the end of the day.