Chapter Fourteen
As an actor, everything had been dictated to me or handled for me, like when I needed to be on set, or if a bill was to be paid, someone took care of it. Sometimes it was hard to stand up for myself, and if I did, it wasn’t always the right time to do so. Was this one of them?
I took my chances.
“I think I should be able to return on Sunday.” I squared my shoulders.
“Excellent. Seven to one it is.” Elliot rose and tucked his chair back under the other table.
Wow, that was easy. “Thank you.”
Sage lingered. “About your hair?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m working until four tomorrow, but I can come to you, if that’s easier. I don’t mind.”
“Honestly, that would be great. Saves me a couple of hours of walking time.” Since I knew I wasn’t going to be able to safely drive just yet. “I’d appreciate that a latte.” I winked and laughed.
“I can’t espresso how much that beans to me.” She grinned and tipped her head back. “It never gets old.”
My gaze flipped to Jeremy, who judging by his one raised brow expression, didn’t feel the same as Sage.
“You live at Riverside Motel, right?” she asked.
“Yep. Room 16.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there by four-ten.”
“Thank you, Sage. I truly do appreciate it.”
She rose, said goodbye to Elliot, and headed out the door.
“Everything works out as it’s meant to be,” Jeremy said, after setting down his mug.
“You believe that?”
“Trying to.” He tapped the pencil on the crossword as he cocked his brow. “Hey, it’s a sign. Two words. Ten letters. The Mandolarian’s ship. That’s a Star Wars spin-off, isn’t it?”
“You’ve never watched? Baby Yoda was all the rage for a while.”
“Oh, is that where that came from? Hmmph.” The tip of the pencil tapped the crossword. “There’s an ‘A’ in the second spot.” He turned it so it was sideways and we both could look.
I leaned over the table and looked at the crossword. In my head, the ship was clear, but what was it called? “Oh! Razor Crest.” The letters filled in the space perfectly. “You really should do some research on that show. It may come up in the trivia tomorrow night.”
“Touche!”
Over the next half hour, we drank our coffees, ate our donuts, put our heads together, and nearly finished the crossword. He was really smart and nailed most of the answers, whereas I only managed to figure out the show business hints.
“You really need to work on your pop culture.” I nudged him.
“Why when I have you?” The words were just as a bit of a surprise to him as they were to me. Quickly, he folded the paper and tucked it inside his coat pocket. “I need to go before I’m late. I’ll meet you outside the school at 11:45?”
“Yeah.”
“See you.” Without another word, he marched out of the coffee shop and turned left toward the school.
I gathered our dishes and dropped them in the bin, wishing everyone a nice day. Heading out, I rounded the corner and popped into Tags, the local grocer. If Sage was coming over tomorrow, I wanted to put together a little something for her; some kind of treat that she wouldn’t get at the Coffee Loft.
Perusing the aisles, I thought a nice charcuterie board would work and gathered the supplies. As I was heading to the cash register, a voice called out.
I hadn’t expected to run into Derek.
“Molly!” His voice cut through the quiet hum of the store, and I froze.
I turned slowly, keeping my face calm, but my stomach did an involuntary flip. Derek stood a few paces away, his shirt crisp, tie neatly knotted. The whole look screamed put-together , the kind of guy who seemed to have everything in control. The kind of guy I used to think I wanted.
“Hey, Derek,” I said, forcing a smile that felt too thin. My hands felt clammy as I shifted the cart to the side, creating distance. A space between us I suddenly needed more than I expected.
He stepped closer, his gaze scanning my cart like it was an open book. “Looks like a fun night planned,” he commented, raising an eyebrow, his voice light but his eyes sharp.
I tried to shrug it off. “Yeah. Just the two of us sharing some meats, cheese, and crackers.” I added a small laugh, but it barely registered in the air between us.
Derek leaned in slightly, his body language pushing. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been seeing someone else all along?”
The question hit harder than it should’ve. Blood rushed to my face, and my breath caught in my chest.
Deflecting, I gave him my full attention. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning on moving?”
“I’d put in for that position before I met you,” he explained, his words clipped, as if rehearsed. “And then a week ago, I got the call. And I said yes... on some conditions.”
My face hardened as I listened. Conditions. A word that hung in the air like a bad taste in my mouth. He was always setting up conditions, making sure everything fit his mold.
“And she didn’t accept those?” I asked, the words sharp as they left my mouth.
He didn’t flinch, just shook his head, and like a piece of warmed spaghetti, he softened. “No. She rejected all but two.”
The smugness in his tone grated against me like he was trying to make me feel sorry for him. I shook my head, trying to hold my ground. “Not surprising,” I muttered. “You’re pretty rigid about what you want in life.”
The flicker of annoyance on his face flashed for a breath, but he didn’t react, just leaned in a little closer, like he wasn’t quite done.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you,” I said, though the words didn’t feel like they belonged. I meant it, but it felt hollow.
His posture softened just enough that I thought, for a moment, he might have been genuinely apologetic. But then he spoke again, and I realized how quickly he could slip into his old pattern.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, and it almost sounded sincere. “The whole thing was callous. I was callous. I should’ve respected you enough to have told you what was going on.”
I held my ground, biting back the urge to shout at him that he had hurt me, that he had broken something in me, and that I had no intention of letting him stitch it back up on his terms.
“When were you going to tell me?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly with frustration.
Derek shrugged, his movement almost dismissive. “I don’t know,” he said casually, as if it didn’t matter. “I’m not good at ending things. I don’t like hurting people’s feelings.”
I took a deep breath, trying to control the rise of anger bubbling under my ribs. “How much longer would you have strung me along if she’d accepted your demands?” I couldn’t help myself. The word “demands” slipped out sharper than I intended, but I was past caring.
His stance shifted slightly. He was no longer towering over me. He didn’t flinch or apologize. Instead, he glanced over my shoulder, avoiding my eyes. “Conditions,” he corrected. “Not demands. And I don’t know.”
“Were you ever going to tell me about Mr. Strong and Silent?” He cocked a brow. “How long have you two been together, for real?”
I sucked on my top lip and mulled over my answer. “It doesn’t matter. He’s none of your concern. I’m none of it either.”
“He’s good, I’ll give him that.” He straightened, and swiped down his arms, trying to remove the wrinkles from the crook of his arm. “To an outsider, he portrays the part well. Kind, caring, comforting.”
I stood there, reminding myself to not let my jaw drop open and blow the whole thing apart.
As Derek leaned in, his words coiled tightly around me like invisible strings. I realized, for the first time, how often he’d made me feel this way—tangled up, unsure, always second-guessing myself. “C’mon, Molly. I’ve been around enough people to be able to read the room and judge relationships in a heartbeat.” His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “There’s no chemistry between you two. Everyone can see it’s an act. But the biggest question is why? What’s the deal? Did you truly need to find someone to replace the void left in my absence?”
Like a slap across the face, the coldness of his words dug into my skin. My eyes narrowed, my jaw tightened.
His presence felt suffocating now, but I stood my ground. I wasn’t his to claim or dissect.
“Molly,” he pressed, leaning into my space, his breath too close, and I stiffened, every muscle in my body locking into place. An angry pulse pounded in my throat, but I refused to let him see the cracks. It was simply Acting 101. “You doing this to make me jealous?”
On some level, maybe. But the real reason was harder to pin down. This wasn’t about Derek anymore—it was about me. About finding something real. Someone who didn’t need to make conditions to fit me into their life.
For a second, Jeremy’s face flickered in my mind. The way he’d helped me steady myself earlier that day without saying a word. No demands, no expectations—just support.
Derek’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Because it’s working, and it’s driving me crazy.”
The weight of his words hung between us. He looked at me then, a flash of something softer in his eyes, like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. His fingers brushed the edge of the basket he carried, white-knuckled, before he turned on his heel and strode to the self-checkout. No sad smile, no hand wave, not even a goodbye. Just the fading sound of his footsteps as he left me standing there, breathless and rooted to the ground.
Watching Derek disappear into the checkout line, I exhaled, the tension in my shoulders slowly ebbing away. He’d always been so good at filling the space around him—taking control of the moment. Of me.
Jeremy never did that. When I was with him, the quiet wasn’t oppressive; it was... comforting. Like I didn’t have to fight for air.
I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. This wasn’t about Jeremy. It wasn’t about anyone else. It was about figuring out who I was when no one else was pulling the strings.