CHAPTER 18
An Apology Without Flowers or Money
Kathy — POV
Kathy didn't move right away.
She just stood behind the counter, staring at him like she was trying to decide if he was real or just another version of a memory she didn't want to deal with.
Brad Hawkins.
Not the idea of him.
Not the news headline.
Him.
Standing in her shop again like he belonged there.
But nothing about this felt like before.
Not anymore.
"I came to talk," he said quietly.
Kathy let out a slow breath.
"Yeah," she replied. "You already said that."
Brad nodded once.
Then stopped talking.
That silence surprised her.
Because before, he always filled silence carefully. Measured words. Controlled explanations. Half-truths that felt neat enough to stand on.
But now —
he didn't.
Kathy folded her arms slowly. "So talk."
Brad looked at her for a second.
Not like he was studying her.
Like he was accepting something.
"I was wrong," he said.
Simple.
Direct.
No buildup.
Kathy blinked slightly.
That wasn't what she expected.
Not this fast.
Not this plain.
She stayed quiet.
Brad continued.
"I didn't think it mattered at first," he said. "Who I was."
A pause.
"But I see now... that it did."
Kathy's jaw tightened slightly.
"That's not the part I care about," she said quietly.
Brad nodded again.
"I know."
Another silence.
He didn't rush it.
Didn't try to fix it with more words.
That alone felt different.
Kathy watched him carefully. "So why are you here, Brad?"
He didn't hesitate this time.
"To be honest with you," he said.
A beat.
"No matter what it costs."
That made something shift in her expression.
Not forgiveness.
Not softness.
Just attention.
Brad stepped a little closer to the counter, but still kept distance.
"I didn't tell you the truth because I was afraid it would change how you saw me," he said.
Kathy gave a small, bitter laugh.
"It did change how I saw you," she replied.
"I know," he said immediately. "And I deserve that."
That response caught her off guard.
No defense.
No justification.
Just acceptance.
Kathy looked down for a moment, then back up at him.
"You made me trust you as someone you weren't," she said.
Brad's voice stayed steady.
"I know."
"And you watched me do it," she added.
A pause.
"I know," he repeated.
That was the first time the conversation didn't feel like an argument.
It felt like him standing still while she spoke.
Kathy exhaled slowly.
"I don't even know which version of you was real," she admitted.
Brad's expression tightened slightly at that.
But he didn't dodge it.
"The part you knew wasn't fake," he said.
That made her pause.
"Wasn't it?" she asked.
Brad shook his head.
"I meant what I said," he replied. "I just didn't tell you everything about who I was."
Kathy studied him carefully.
"You think that makes it better?"
"No," he said immediately. "It makes it worse."
That honesty landed differently.
Because it didn't try to win her over.
It just existed.
Kathy looked away for a second, collecting herself.
When she looked back, her voice was quieter.
"Why are you really here?" she asked again.
Brad exhaled slowly.
Not like someone trying to think of the right answer.
Like someone choosing to drop all of them.
"I'm here because I care about you," he said.
A pause.
"And I handled it like control instead of honesty."
Kathy's expression tightened slightly again.
"You think you can just say that and it fixes everything?"
"No," he said.
"No," he repeated softer. "I don't."
Silence stretched again.
This time, it wasn't sharp.
It was heavy in a different way.
Brad took a breath.
"I'm not here to take anything from you," he said. "Not your time. Not your trust. Not your forgiveness."
He looked at her directly.
"I just wanted you to hear me say it properly. No money. No influence. No systems behind it."
A beat.
"Just me."
Kathy stayed quiet for a long moment.
Then she said, "You think money is what I care about?"
Brad didn't answer immediately.
"I think it got in the way of everything else," he said carefully.
That wasn't wrong.
But it wasn't the full truth either.
Kathy stepped slightly away from the counter now.
Her voice was steadier.
"You didn't just hide money," she said. "You hid your entire life."
Brad nodded once.
"Yes."
"And I don't know what part of you I was actually falling for," she added.
That made him go quiet again.
Because that was the question he couldn't fix.
He didn't try to dodge it.
"I don't know how to answer that for you," he admitted.
Kathy looked at him for a moment.
Then said, softer but still firm:
"That's the problem."
Silence.
Brad didn't push.
Didn't argue.
Didn't explain.
Just stood there.
Finally, Kathy spoke again.
"You don't get to walk in here and expect things to go back," she said.
"I'm not asking that," he replied immediately.
Another pause.
"I'm asking for a chance to be honest going forward," he added.
Kathy studied him carefully.
No gifts.
No flowers.
No grand gestures.
Just him.
Stripped down to something uncomfortable and real.
For the first time, there was no performance in his presence.
Only uncertainty.
And regret.
Kathy exhaled slowly.
"I don't forgive you yet," she said.
Brad nodded immediately.
"I understand."
"But I'm listening," she added.
That made him stop for a second.
Not relief.
Not victory.
Just acknowledgment.
Kathy leaned lightly on the counter again, keeping her distance.
"So start there," she said.
And for the first time since everything broke —
he did.