24. Chapter 24
Adam
Peter looks up, his expression a mixture of surprise and resignation.
He sets down his spoon again and gestures to a pair of stools tucked against the wall.
I perch on one, hands clasped between my knees to hide their slight trembling.
This isn’t a conversation I’d planned to have today, but it’s one I’ve rehearsed in my head a thousand times since Caitlin left; all the things I should have said, all the apologies I owed her and never properly made.
He sits across from me, his face impassive. “I’m listening.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m deeply ashamed of how I treated Caitlin.
Not just the big things, like abandoning her on Thanksgiving for that cruise, but all the small daily betrayals, too.
The way I’d let conversations at family dinners exclude her.
The way I’d pretend not to notice when my mother or Millie said something cutting.
The Halloween party she worked so hard on, where I let my friends ignore her.
” My voice cracks slightly with this last memory.
“She spent three days making appetizers that no one even thanked her for. And I let them treat her that way. I said nothing.”
Peter’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“There’s no excuse for any of it,” I continue.
“I could tell you I was caught between my family’s expectations and my love for Caitlin, that I was trying to make everyone happy, but the truth is simpler and uglier than that.
I was a coward. I took the path of least resistance.
I chose peace with my family over standing up for the woman I claimed to love. ”
I look down at my hands, forcing myself to continue.
“I knew we weren’t okay, and I went on that cruise anyway.
It was miserable. All I could think about was Caitlin, alone on Thanksgiving, while I was surrounded by people who treated her horribly.
Then I found out she was back in Oregon, and I tried calling, texting, but she never replied. So I flew to Oregon.”
“I remember,” Peter says dryly. “You weren’t exactly welcome.”
I nod, acknowledging the understatement.
“After you sent me home, things came to a head at Christmas dinner. My mother, one of my sisters, and Millie started tearing Caitlin apart — her appearance, her job, her background. Things got ugly. But something in me finally snapped. I told them all exactly what I thought of their behavior. I told them I was moving to Oregon to win her back.”
Peter’s eyebrows rise slightly, the first hint of genuine surprise.
“My sister Lauren bought me out of the family business. She always wanted it more than I did, anyway. I left Iowa on New Year’s Day, and I haven’t looked back. I cut my mother, my sister, and Millie out of my life completely. Blocked their numbers, their social media, everything.”
“That’s quite a dramatic change,” Peter observes, his tone carefully neutral. “What brought it on exactly?”
“Losing Caitlin made me finally look at what my cowardice was costing me. The person I was becoming, the one my family wanted me to be — it wasn’t me.
It wasn’t the man Caitlin fell in love with in Colorado.
I’d let them change me, make me smaller, weaker.
” Meeting his eyes directly, I tell him, “I don’t blame Caitlin for leaving.
She deserved so much better than what I gave her. ”
Peter is silent for a long moment, studying my face. I force myself to hold his gaze, to let him see the truth in my eyes.
“I don’t expect her to forgive me,” I say softly. “I don’t expect her to give me another chance. She has absolutely no reason to believe anything I say or do. I’ve repeatedly proven myself unworthy of her trust.”
“Then why are you here?” Peter asks, not unkindly. “Why put yourself through this?”
“Because even if she never loves me again, I need her to know that I know how badly I failed her. That I’m truly sorry. That I’ve changed.” I swallow hard. “And because I still love her. I never stopped. I never will.”
“Love isn’t always enough,” Peter says, echoing words Caitlin had said to me in November.
“I know that now. Love without courage, without action, it’s meaningless.
” I straighten my shoulders slightly. “That’s why I want to help with the restaurant, regardless of whether Caitlin ever forgives me.
I’ve heard things aren’t going well. I have skills that could be useful — accounting, marketing, business planning.
I also have experience in construction and can help fix things.
But I’d be just as happy washing dishes or serving tables. Whatever helps most.”
“And you think throwing yourself into saving our restaurant will win her back?” There’s a hint of skepticism in his voice.
I shake my head firmly. “No. I’m not that na?ve. I know there’s nothing I can do to guarantee she’ll give me another chance. This isn’t about winning her back; it’s about being the kind of man who deserves her, whether she ever chooses me again or not.”
Peter’s expression shifts slightly, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
“I promise you, if my presence makes Caitlin uncomfortable in any way, I’ll leave immediately.
I won’t use this job as an excuse to pressure her or force interactions.
I’ll keep my distance if that’s what she wants.
I just…” I trail off, searching for the right words.
“I just want to be in her orbit again. To show her through actions, not just words, that I’ve changed. ”
“And if she’s dating someone else?” Peter asks, his gaze sharp. “If she’s moving on with her life?”
The question stings, but I force myself to answer honestly. “Then I’ll respect that completely. Her happiness is what matters most to me. If she’s found that with someone else, I won’t interfere.”
Peter sighs heavily, running a hand through his graying hair. “You know, Adam, I liked you when we first met. When you and Caitlin came to visit that summer before you moved to Iowa. You two seemed like a good match, and you were clearly crazy about her.”
“I was,” I say softly. “I still am.”
“But then you took her to Iowa, and every time she called home, she sounded a little smaller, a little less herself. Charlene and I worried about her, but we tried to give it time.” His eyes harden slightly.
“Then she called Rachel after that Halloween party, crying so hard she could barely understand her. That’s when we knew it was bad.
Rachel and I were just about ready to go to Iowa and bring her home ourselves. ”
Shame washes over me anew. “I didn’t know she had called you that night.”
“There’s a lot you didn’t know because you weren’t paying attention.” He shakes his head. “Do you know what she told us? That she felt invisible. That your friends looked through her like she wasn’t even there.”
I close my eyes briefly, the pain of these revelations sharp and immediate. “I wish I’d acted differently that night. It’s one of many things I’ll always regret.”
“You should think about why you allowed it to happen. If you loved her, why would you allow her to be treated that way? Hell, forget for a moment your friends ignoring her; why would you ignore her?” Peter says, and while it’s not quite an accusation, it still carries the sting of rebuke.
“If you are going to have any chance with her, you’re going to need to explain why you behaved the way you did. ”
“I know. None of it should ever have happened. I’d been told my entire life that I had an obligation to take care of Millie, that she needed me, that she depended on me, and I was torn between that and my feelings for Caitlin.
I was just trying to keep the peace between everyone…
” I trail off, then meet his eyes again.
“It shouldn’t have happened. None of it should have happened.
Caitlin should have always been my priority. ”
Peter nods slowly, as if my answer has confirmed something for him. He stands, signaling that our conversation is ending. “I appreciate your honesty, Adam. I can’t say I’m ready to welcome you with open arms, but I believe you’re sincere in your regret.”
I stand too, hope fluttering cautiously in my chest. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he warns. “I still need to talk to Caitlin. If she doesn’t want you here, that’s the end of it. Her well-being comes first.”
“Absolutely,” I agree immediately. “It should always have come first.”
Peter studies me one last time, then nods slightly. “I’ll let you know. Leave your number with Jenny at the front counter on your way out.”
It’s a dismissal, but a gentler one than before. I thank him again, but before I turn to go, I say, “Mr. Hughes? Regardless of what happens with the job, I want you to know I’ll never stop being sorry for how I hurt Caitlin. And I’ll never stop trying to make it right.”
I leave the kitchen, heading to the front counter where a young woman is folding napkins.
I write my name and number on the pad she offers, thanking her before stepping outside into the frosty January air.
The conversation with Peter went better than I’d dared hope, but I know the real test is still to come.
How will Caitlin react to the idea of seeing me every day?
Will she give me even this slight chance to prove myself?
As I walk to my truck, I glance back at the restaurant, at the faded sign that’s meant so much to Caitlin’s family for generations. Whatever happens with Caitlin and me, I’m going to help save Louise’s Table if I can. She loves this restaurant, and so I love it too. It’s as simple as that.
* * *
Sitting in my truck outside Louise’s Table, my hands grip the steering wheel though the engine remains off.
My conversation with Peter has left me drained, wrung out, as if I’ve run some emotional marathon.
But beneath the exhaustion, a small spark of hope flickers.
He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either.
He’s going to talk to Caitlin. It’s more than I deserve, more than I expected when I knocked on that kitchen door.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the headrest, memories washing over me like waves, all the ways I failed the woman I love, all the moments I chose wrong, all the pain I caused through my cowardice.
There are so many regrets, they blur together sometimes.
But certain moments stand out in sharp relief: Caitlin’s face when I told her about the cruise, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall.
At the Halloween party, I watched her flit from group to group, trying so hard to engage with my friends, who barely acknowledged her.
Every dinner at my parents’ house where my mother made some cutting remark about Caitlin’s background, her lack of education, her appearance, and I said nothing.
Just squeezed Caitlin’s hand under the table, as if that silent support was enough.
It was never enough. Not by half.
The worst part is that I saw what was happening.
I wasn’t blind; I was just a coward. I watched the light in Caitlin’s eyes dim a little more each day, saw her shoulders curve inward, her voice grow quieter.
I witnessed her transformation from the confident, vibrant woman I fell in love with to someone who constantly second-guessed herself, who apologized for taking up space. And still, I did nothing.
No, that’s not quite true. I did worse than nothing; I told her she was overreacting. I made excuses for my mother and for Millie. I promised things would get better if she just gave it more time, if she just tried a little harder to fit in. As if the problem were her, not them. Not me.
God, no wonder she left.
Dad’s words from our last conversation echo in my head: “Don’t waste time like I did, son.
Fight for her while you still can.” The pain in his eyes when he told me about the woman he’d loved before Mom, the one his family had driven away and he’d never fought for, haunts me.
I never knew that side of my father, never imagined that under his cheerful facade he carried that kind of regret.
And now he’s planning to leave Mom after all these years, to finally choose himself.
“I should have done it decades ago,” he’d said, sitting on the couch in my mostly empty apartment, looking smaller and older than I’d ever seen him.
“But I was afraid. First, I was afraid of disappointing my family, of not living up to what they expected of me. Then of being alone. And look what it cost me. Look what it almost cost you.”
It was the most profound lesson my father has ever taught me.
How taking the path of cowardice can echo through a lifetime.
How the choices we make, or fail to make, shape not just our own lives but the lives of everyone around us.
My father has spent almost forty years living with the consequences of his cowardice, building a life that’s comfortable but not what he truly wanted.
I don’t want that fate. Even if Caitlin never forgives me, even if she’s happier with someone else, I need to become the kind of man who stands up for what he believes in.
The kind of man who fights for what matters.
The kind of man I thought I was in Colorado, before I let fear and obligation dim my own light.
Starting the engine, I back out of the parking space, my mind churning with possibilities. Peter might say no. Caitlin might refuse to even consider having me around.
But for the first time in months, I feel something like peace settling in my chest. I’ve been honest — with Peter, with myself.
I’ve acknowledged my mistakes without excuse.
And even if this particular door closes, I’ll find another way to show Caitlin I’ve changed, to help her family’s restaurant, to become someone worthy of a second chance.
As I drive away from Louise’s Table, I glance in the rearview mirror for a last look at the faded sign, the old building that holds so much of Caitlin’s history, her heart. Whatever happens next, I’m not giving up. On Caitlin, on myself, on the possibility of redemption.
Some mistakes can’t be undone. But maybe, just maybe, they can be forgiven.