Chapter 25
Ghosts of Doubt
Andi
The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up from restocking the pastry case after the morning rush, expecting a regular. Instead, Rebecca walked in. Damnit. Why me?
She wore sunglasses despite the overcast day, her hair perfectly styled, dressed like she was heading somewhere important rather than just getting coffee.
She was wearing a pristine white pantsuit that screamed, "I'm heading to a yacht christening after I ruin your life." Who actually wears white pantsuits in real life? Besides cult leaders and people who've never had to worry about ketchup stains. Or any food, for that matter.
She surveyed the shop with the kind of careful assessment people do when they're cataloging details. My stomach dropped.
"Hi there," Marcus called from the espresso machine. "What can I get you?"
"I'd like a half-caf, triple-shot, almond milk cortado with a quarter pump of sugar-free vanilla, served at precisely one hundred and thirty-five degrees in ceramic—not paper.
" She paused, examining her manicure with a slight tilt of her head.
"If you even have proper ceramic mugs here.
" She sighed. "Medium coffee will do, I suppose. "
Rebecca's voice was pleasant. Casual.
I straightened, wiping my hands on my apron. Our eyes met across the counter.
"Rebecca," I said evenly.
She removed her sunglasses with two fingers, as if touching them for too long might contaminate her manicure.
"Ally." Her gaze swept across the café, lingering on Frank and Dolores, a couple of my daily regulars.
Her eyes shifted back to me. "Adorable little place.
Cozy." The word 'cozy' hung in the air like something distasteful she needed to spit out.
Marcus glanced between us, clearly picking up on the tension.
"It's Andi. And thanks," I said. "What brings you by?"
"Curiosity, I suppose." She moved to the pickup counter, positioning herself where she could see me clearly. "Wanted to see where my daughter spends so much time when she's with Gavin."
"Charisse has been here a few times with Gavin, yeah."
"She talks about you constantly. Ally this, Ally that." Rebecca's smile didn't reach her eyes. "It's sweet. How fond she's become of you."
Her deliberate use of the wrong name for me again told me exactly what she thought. She was like a schoolyard bully who thought they'd found the perfect insult. The way her lips curled around the word "fond" came with the exaggerated disdain of someone who never outgrew her mean-girl phase. Bitch.
Marcus brought her coffee. "Here you go."
"Thank you." Rebecca took it but didn't move toward the door. Just stood there, watching me. "You know, Gavin and I have been talking more lately."
My pulse quickened. "About Charisse."
"About everything, really." She took a sip of coffee. "Co-parenting brings you back together in unexpected ways. All those late-night conversations about what's best for your child. You start to remember what it was like before things got complicated."
I kept my face neutral. "I'm sure it's important to communicate about Charisse."
"It is. But it's more than that." Rebecca placed the cup down and leaned against the counter. "When you share a child with someone, there's a bond that doesn't just go away. History. Understanding. The kind of connection new people can't really compete with."
The words landed exactly where she intended.
"I'm not competing with anyone," I said carefully.
"Of course not." Her smile widened. "I just think it's worth mentioning—things between Gavin and me are shifting. Getting... closer again. He's just not ready to tell you yet. He doesn't want to hurt you."
The floor felt unsteady beneath me.
"Rebecca—"
"I'm not trying to be cruel. Just honest." She moved towards the door, having barely even touched her ridiculously complicated coffee barely touched. "You seem like a nice person, Ally. But some things are inevitable. Gavin and I—we're a family. That means something."
She left before I could respond, the bell chiming cheerfully behind her. I stood there, frozen, my hands gripping the edge of the counter.
"What the hell was that?" Marcus asked.
I pulled out my phone with shaking hands.
Andi: Rebecca came by the shop today. Need to talk when you have a minute.
I stared at the screen. The message showed as delivered. I waited for the three dots that would show he was typing.
Nothing.
"Andi?" Marcus was watching me. "You okay?"
"I have no idea." But that was a lie. I knew exactly what this was.
The rest of the day passed in a haze. I went through the motions—making drinks, chatting with customers—but Rebecca's words played on a loop in my head.
Things between Gavin and me are shifting.
He's just not ready to tell you yet.
Some things are inevitable.
I checked my phone every fifteen minutes. The message to Gavin sat there. Delivered. Read receipt off, so I couldn't tell if he'd seen it.
But no response.
By two o'clock, I'd convinced myself he was avoiding me. By three, I'd spiraled into wondering if Rebecca was right. By four, when I left the shop in Marcus's hands, I was remembering Ryan. Standing outside Thinking Cup, watching him kiss his ex through the window.
You're temporary. Just a placeholder until something better comes along.
By the time I got to Gavin's that evening, there was still nothing back from Gavin and I'd worked myself into a quiet panic I was desperately trying to hide.
"Hey," he said when he opened the door, kissing me quickly. "How was your day?"
"Fine. Busy." I searched his face for signs of anything. Recognition of the issue, guilt about Rebecca, anything. Nothing.
Charisse was at Sammy's for a sleepover. We had the place to ourselves. We ordered Thai food, sat on the couch and ate while something on Netflix played. I couldn't tell you what it was since I wasn’t even following. My mind was somewhere else.
Gavin kept glancing at me. "You okay? You seem off."
"Just tired."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." Why don’t I just say something? Out with it. Just say it.
"Gavin. Why didn’t you—" His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He glanced at it, then picked it up.
I saw the preview notification before he could swipe it away.
Rebecca: Thanks for everything. Great seeing you at lunch.
Time stopped.
"What the hell is that?" The words came out sharper than I intended.
Gavin looked at his phone, then at me. "What?"
"The text. From Rebecca. Lunch? Why didn't you say anything?"
His expression shifted—realization, then something like dread. "Andi—"
I shot up from the couch, my legs carrying me backward before my brain could catch up. "So what—you two are having secret lunches now?" My voice came out thin and high. "Were you ever going to mention it, or was I supposed to find out like this?"
"I didn't have lunch with her—"
"The text says you did!"
"We didn’t have lunch!" He stood too. "Andi, listen to me—"
My hands balled into fists at my sides. "Is that why you never texted me back?
" The words exploded out. I paced three steps away, then whirled back to face him.
"When I told you Rebecca came to my shop.
That we needed to talk, were you—" My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard.
"Were you heading to have lunch with her?
I was sitting there trying to figure out why you wouldn't have responded.
" I pressed my palm against my forehead, eyes burning.
"And then here, trying to act normal while wondering if everything she said was true, and now you're getting texts from her about lunch—"
"Wait, you texted me?" He grabbed his phone, swiping frantically. "When?"
"Earlier! Right after she left!"
He scrolled through his messages. His face went pale.
"Shit. Andi, I—I never saw this. I've been in back-to-back meetings for most of the day—the last two in the afternoon were with the Seaport Development client.
They run a secure review process, phones in a lockbox at the door.
I just got out twenty minutes before I came—"
"She was at my shop, Gavin!" My voice cracked.
I wrapped my arms around myself, fingers digging into my biceps.
"She stood at my counter and told me you two were getting closer.
" I paced three steps away, then whirled back to face him.
"That you weren't ready to tell me yet." My chest heaved as I fought for breath.
"And I told myself she was just messing with me. That it wasn't real." I pushed my hair back with trembling fingers. "But then you didn't respond to my text all day, and now this—"
He crossed to me, his hands raised as if he were approaching a startled animal. "Stop." His voice dropped an octave. "Stop. Breathe."
I backed away, my shoulder blades hitting the wall. "Don't tell me to breathe—"
"Andi." His voice was firm. Steady. "I did not have lunch with Rebecca.
I ran out to grab a sandwich from that deli near my office around one.
She showed up. Got in line right behind me, acting like it was coincidence.
She ordered food, too, like she was trying to make it seem like we were together. "
I pulled back. "And you didn't think to text me?"
"I should have. You're absolutely right.
" He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers catching in the dark waves for a moment before he yanked them free with a grimace.
"I documented everything for Victor—typed out every word she said, every manipulative little gesture—but I didn't text you.
" His shoulders slumped as he exhaled heavily. "That was wrong. Inexcusably wrong."
My throat tightened. "I texted you first! This morning!" I jabbed my finger toward his phone, my nail clicking against the screen. "To tell you she'd been to my shop!"