Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Brynn
Knox is already seated when I walk into the diner. He's turned slightly, elbow draped over the back of a booth, his eyes scanning the dining room. Waiting. For me.
And he’s dressed up.
Not in a flashy, trying-too-hard way, but in that maddeningly understated way he’s always had.
Dark button-up, sleeves rolled, top button undone just enough to be unfair.
His hair is styled, but it looks like he’s run his hand through it a dozen times since he left the house.
Like maybe he’s been nervous. Like maybe this means something to him too.
The nerves that have been buzzing in my stomach all afternoon spike. But I keep walking.
And then he sees me.
He stands halfway, his eyes sweeping over me. His brown eyes going a little wider when they reach the hem of my dress before he speaks.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Wow. You look…” He exhales, like the word got stuck in his throat. “You look incredible, Brynn.”
My throat goes tight, but I manage a smile. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He lets out a soft laugh and gestures to the booth. “Can I offer you a seat, gorgeous?”
That earns him a real smile, even if my heart’s still pounding.
I slide into the booth and place my purse beside me, letting my gaze drift over the diner’s checkered walls and the specials board with chipped lettering. It’s like stepping into a time capsule. Except nothing about this feels like the past anymore.
He sits too, clearing his throat and reaching for the menu. I follow his lead, grateful for something to hold.
We both hide behind the laminated pages like they’re armor.
“I didn’t know how weirdly passionate this place is about waffles,” I say, scanning the section labeled Waffle Wonderland.
Knox snorts. “Right? Like, they have a whole sub-menu for toppings. I had no clue that banana pudding waffles were a thing.”
“Or the jalapeno and cheddar one.” I wrinkle my nose. “That feels like a cry for help.”
His eyes focus on my nose as he smiles. “I feel like we should order it out of respect for the chaos.”
I laugh, and just like that, the edge softens. The tension doesn’t vanish, but it thaws a little.
“I kind of want the classic,” I admit, “with the whipped cream and strawberries.”
“Go for it. Live your truth.”
“You?”
He closes his menu and leans back slightly. “I was thinking of pancakes. But now I feel like that’s boring.”
“I won’t judge you.”
“That’s a lie and you know it,” he says with a smirk, and I realize how easy this could be if we let it. How natural it still feels to sit across from him and tease each other about breakfast foods. The waitress takes our order and I curse her for taking my emotional support menu.
We begin with small talk, but it doesn’t last long. We both know that we didn’t come here to pretend nothing happened.
“I don’t want to waste this,” Knox says, voice low and even. “I know we’ve got a lot to say.”
I nod. “We do.”
He doesn’t speak right away. Just watches me with those steady eyes that always knew how to wait me out. Our food arrives, untouched as he finally leans forward, forearms resting on the table.
“When you left,” he says quietly, “it felt like everything shifted. One minute we were us, talking about the future like it was set in stone—and the next, you were gone.”
I press my palms against the edge of the table, grounding myself. “I didn’t know how to stay.”
His brows draw together, a flicker of pain tightening his mouth. “Why not?”
I exhale shakily. “Because I didn’t feel like enough.
You had the draft coming, a real shot at the life you always dreamed of.
And I—I felt stuck. I didn’t know what I wanted, just that it couldn’t compete with your certainty.
I told myself I was doing the right thing, giving you space to become who you were meant to be.
But really…I think I just didn’t think I belonged in that version of your life. ”
Knox doesn’t speak for a long moment, but when he does, it’s not with anger. Just quiet, steady truth.
“You were never a footnote in my story, Brynn. You were the whole damn plot. I didn’t want that life without you beside me.”
Tears pool in my eyes before I can blink them away. I nod, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.
“I know that now,” I whisper. “And I hate how long it took me to see it. You were the best thing in my life, and I walked away. I thought I was protecting myself—but I was just scared. And I’m so sorry, Knox. For not trusting the love we had. For not trusting you.”
He reaches across the table, fingers brushing mine before he takes my hand in his.
“I would’ve walked through anything with you,” he says, voice thick. “I wanted your mess, your doubts, your dreams—even the ones you hadn’t figured out yet. I didn’t need you to be certain. I just needed you.”
The tears fall then, hot and unrelenting, and still—he doesn’t let go.
I nod, throat tight. “Thank you.”
Something in the air shifts. The heaviness lingers, but it doesn’t choke. We’re not dragging old wounds into the present. We’re letting them breathe, laying them down between us like offerings.
“I think about who we were back then,” I say, “and I don’t regret us. But I also see now…we weren’t ready.”
“No, we weren't,” he agrees. “But maybe we are now.”
His hand is still on mine, thumb moving across my skin. Warm. Steady. Wanting. And for a moment, I let it linger.
Then I pull back, my heart thudding like a warning bell in my chest. Because there’s still something he doesn’t know.
I shift, folding my napkin again and again, just to give my hands something to do.
“I need to tell you something,” I begin, my voice careful, cautious. “It’s not easy. And I didn’t want to drop it on you like this, but…if we’re even thinking about trying again, you need to know.”
Knox straightens, brows pulling in. “Okay.”
“After I moved to Seattle, I started having some health issues. Fatigue, irregular cycles, symptoms I thought were just stress. But it wasn’t stress.”
I force myself to meet his eyes.
“I was diagnosed with premature ovarian insufficiency. It means the chances of me ever getting pregnant naturally are pretty much zero. There are treatments, but they don’t change the core truth—I most likely will never conceive or carry a baby.”
His face stills, lips parting slightly like he’s about to speak. But I rush on.
“I know you, Knox. I know what family means to you. You always talked about it like it was sacred. I don’t want to take that away from you.”
“Brynn—”
“I’m not telling you this for pity,” I say quickly, cutting him off. “I’m telling you because you deserve the truth. And I deserve someone who chooses me fully, knowing all of it.”
He blinks like he’s still trying to find the words, but I’m already moving, sliding out of the booth and grabbing my purse.
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” I say, voice trembling only slightly. “But I want you to think about this. Really think. Because I don’t want to be someone’s compromise. And I don’t want you to resent me later for choosing me over your shot at having a family.”
His jaw works, eyes stormy.
I offer a shaky smile. “So I’m going to give you time. And when you’ve made your choice, you can let me know.”
I hesitate for only a second longer, then add, “Take your time, Knox. This is really important to me.”
And then I walk away.
My heels click across the tile like punctuation marks. My chest aches. My eyes blur with tears. But my head is high. Because for the first time, I’m not running away, I’m walking toward something honest.