Chapter 13
Rachel
“Mama, I can’t find my blue shirt.”
I’m standing in the kitchen pouring cereal when Tommy appears in the doorway wearing pajama pants and one sock. His hair sticks up in twelve different directions.
“You’re always looking for something. Did you check your dresser?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you actually check, or did you look for three seconds and give up?”
He thinks about this. “The second one.”
“Go check again. Actually, check this time.” I set the cereal box down. “And put on your other sock. You can’t go to school with one sock.”
“Why not?”
“Because Mrs. Cott will think I don’t know how to dress you.”
“You are a bad stylist. That’s why I dress myself.”
He’s got a point, but I’m not admitting it. “Sock. Shirt. Five minutes. Go.”
He disappears back upstairs, and I lean against the counter, staring at my phone.
The text from Doug came through last night at nine-thirty.
Rachel, can we meet tomorrow morning? 9 a.m. at Riverside Coffee. Need to discuss some things about the café.
I knew immediately what “discuss some things” meant. Nobody asks for a morning meeting at a coffee shop to deliver good news.
But I texted back anyway: Sure. See you then.
Jake appears in the doorway, already dressed for work. “You, okay? You’ve been staring at that cereal box for five minutes.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.” He grabs his travel mug from the cabinet. “Meeting with Doug this morning?”
“Yeah. Nine o’clock.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“No. I can handle it.” I pour milk into Tommy’s bowl. “Besides, you’ve got that department meeting.”
“I can skip it.”
“Jake, I’m a grown woman. I can meet with my former boss without my brother holding my hand.” I soften my tone. “But thank you. Really.”
He studies me for a moment, then nods. “Call me after if you need to talk.”
“I will.”
Tommy thundered back down the stairs wearing his blue shirt and two matching socks. “Found it!”
“That’s my boy. Now eat your cereal before it gets soggy.”
We get through breakfast with minimal chaos. Tommy tells me about a project his class is doing on insects, which involves far too much detail about spider anatomy for seven in the morning. Jake leaves for work. I get Tommy to school with five minutes to spare.
And then I have to drive to Riverside Coffee and face whatever’s waiting for me there.
Doug’s already at a corner table when I arrive.
He looks tired. Older than I remember. The café fire aged him in ways I didn’t notice before—new lines around his eyes, gray hair that wasn’t there three months ago.
“Rachel.” He stands when he sees me. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Of course.” I sit down across from him. “How’s Linda?”
“Good. She’s good. Still in Seattle with our daughter.” He wraps both hands around his coffee mug. “Getting some space from all this.”
“I don’t blame her.”
We sit in awkward silence for a moment. I can see him trying to figure out how to start. How to say what he needs to say.
I decide to make it easier for him.
“You’re letting me go.”
His shoulders sag with relief that I said it first. “The insurance company is dragging its feet. They won’t pay out until Marco’s investigation concludes. It could be months. Maybe longer.” He looks at his coffee. “Linda and I can’t afford to keep paying staff when we don’t have income coming in.”
“I understand.”
“You were a great manager, Rachel. Best we’ve had in years. If we rebuild, I want you back. First person I’ll call.” He finally meets my eyes. “But right now, I can’t even promise we will rebuild. The numbers don’t make sense. We might have to walk away.”
My chest tightens. “What about Emma and Marcus? Jennifer?”
“I’m meeting with all of them today. Everyone’s being let go.” He slides an envelope across the table. “Two weeks’ severance. It’s not much, but it’s what I can do.”
I take the envelope without opening it. “Thank you.”
“I’m so sorry, Rachel. You didn’t deserve any of this.”
“None of us did.” I stand up because sitting here any longer feels impossible. “Thanks for telling me in person. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did.” He stands too. “You take care of yourself. And that boy of yours.”
“I will.”
I make it to my car before the first tear falls.
Then I’m gripping the steering wheel and crying so hard I can’t breathe. Big, ugly sobs that make my whole body shake. Tears that won’t stop, no matter how many times I wipe my face.
Three months. I lasted three months before everything fell apart again.
I came back to Millbrook Falls to start over. To prove I could build a life for Tommy and myself. To show Derek and everyone else who doubted me that I was more than just someone’s ex-girlfriend, someone’s disappointment.
And now I’m unemployed, living in my brother’s house, with an ex threatening to take my son because I can’t get my life together.
I cry until my throat hurts, and my eyes are swollen, and I’ve used up all the napkins from the glove compartment.
Then I sit there staring at nothing.
My phone buzzes—text from Cole.
How’d the meeting go?
I stare at the message. He remembered.
I type: Not great. Lost the job.
Three dots appear immediately. I’m sorry. You want company?
I’m fine. Thanks, though.
You’re not fine. Nobody’s fine after getting fired.
Laid off. There’s a difference.
Not really. Still sucks.
I almost smile despite everything. Yeah. It really does.
The offer stands if you change your mind. I’m off shift at 6.
I don’t respond. I pocket my phone and start the car.
I need to go home. Need to figure out how to tell Jake. Need to start applying for more jobs, even though the thought of another rejection makes me want to scream.
But first, I sit in this parking lot and let myself fall apart where nobody can see me.
Derek calls at four in the afternoon.
I’m on the couch with my laptop, scrolling through job listings that all require experience I don’t have or qualifications I can’t prove. Tommy’s at Sophie’s house for the afternoon, and I need a few hours to process without having to smile and pretend everything’s fine.
I almost don’t answer when his name pops up on my screen.
But ignoring Derek never makes anything better. It just means he calls back five more times until I give in.
“What do you want?” I answer without greeting.
“Well, hello to you, too.” His voice is smooth. Friendly. The tone he uses when he’s about to ruin my day. “How are you doing, Rachel?”
“I’m busy. What do you want?”
“I heard about the café. That you lost your job.” He pauses. “I’m sorry. That must be really hard for you.”
My stomach drops. “How did you hear about that?”
“Small town. People talk.” He doesn’t elaborate. “I just wanted to check in. See how you’re holding up.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’re having a rough time. No job, no income, living with your brother…” He trails off. “Makes me wonder if Tommy’s in the best situation right now.”
There it is. The real reason he called.
“Tommy is fine. He’s happy. He’s thriving.” I keep my voice steady even though my heart’s racing. “My employment status doesn’t change that.”
“Doesn’t it? Kids need stability, Rachel. They need to know their basic needs are being met.” His tone shifts. Concerned. Paternal. It makes me want to throw my phone across the room. “I’m not trying to attack you. I’m trying to look out for my son.”
“The son you haven’t seen in six months. That son?”
“I’ve been giving you space. Trying to let you get settled.” He sighs like I’m being difficult. “But now I’m hearing about fires and unemployment and viral videos. It’s concerning. Any judge would be concerned.”
“Any judge would also be concerned about a father who abandoned his kid the second things got hard.”
“I didn’t abandon anyone. You left. You took Tommy and moved back to that town without discussing it with me.”
“Because you told me to figure out my own problems. Because you said Tommy and I were dragging you down!” My voice cracks. “You made it very clear you didn’t want us anymore.”
“That’s not how I remember it.” His voice stays calm. Reasonable. Like he’s the adult in this conversation. “But we can argue about the past, or we can focus on what’s best for Tommy moving forward.”
“What do you want, Derek?”
“I want to make sure my son is being raised in a stable environment. And right now, I’m not sure he is.” He pauses. “My lawyer thinks we have a strong case for revisiting custody. The viral videos, the unemployment, the fact that you’re living with your brother instead of providing your own home…”
“You’re threatening me.”
“I’m protecting my son.”
“You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to ignore him for months and then suddenly pretend you care because you think you can win some custody battle.”
“I’ve always cared. You just made it impossible for me to be involved.” His tone hardens. “Look, Rachel, I’m trying to be reasonable here. But if you can’t provide a stable home for Tommy, then maybe it’s time we look at other arrangements.”
“Go to hell, Derek.”
I hang up before he can respond.
My hands are shaking. My chest feels tight. I can’t breathe right.
He’s going to try to take Tommy. He’s actually going to do it.
And the worst part? He might have a case. An unemployed single mother living with her brother, internet-famous for being rescued from a fire by a hot firefighter, can’t seem to get her life together, no matter how hard she tries.
What judge wouldn’t question that?
I drop my phone on the couch and press my hands over my face.
What am I doing?
I just lost my job. My ex is threatening custody. I have no prospects, no plan, no idea how to fix any of this.
And on top of everything else, I’m sleeping with two of Jake’s best friends, like that’s somehow going to make my life less complicated.
Cole and Theo. Two men I have actual feelings for. Two men who make me feel wanted, seen, and like I’m more than just a disaster waiting to happen.
But what does that make me? A woman who can’t even handle her own life but somehow thinks she can handle a relationship. Two relationships?
Maybe Derek’s right. Perhaps I am being selfish. Maybe I’m putting what I want ahead of what Tommy needs.
A stable home. A mother who isn’t constantly struggling, someone who has their life together enough to provide actual security.
I’m not that person. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
The front door opens. Jake’s voice carries through the house.
“Rachel? You home?”
I wipe my face quickly. Try to pull myself together.
“In here.”
He appears in the living room doorway, takes one look at me, and his expression shifts from casual to concerned in half a second.
“What happened?”
“Doug, let me go. Insurance won’t pay out. Café might not rebuild.” The words come out flat. Mechanical. “I’m officially unemployed.”
Jake crosses the room and sits beside me on the couch. “I’m sorry. That’s rough.”
“And Derek called. He’s threatening custody again. Says I’m unstable. Says Tommy needs a better situation.” I laugh, but it comes out wrong. Broken. “He might be right.”
“He’s not right. He’s an asshole.”
“Maybe I’m an asshole, too. Maybe we’re both assholes and Tommy’s the one who suffers for it.”
“Rachel—”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Jake. I came back here to start over, and I’m failing at everything. No job. No home of my own. An ex who wants to take my kid. I can’t get anything right.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” I look at him. “What have I done right since I got back here? Name one thing.”
“You’re raising a good kid. Tommy’s happy. He’s healthy. He’s loved.” Jake’s voice is firm. “That’s not nothing.”
“I need to figure this out,” I say quietly. “I need to get a job. Get my own place. Show Derek and everyone else that I can handle my life.”
“You will.”
“When? Because right now it feels like I’m drowning and there’s no shore in sight.”
Jake doesn’t answer. Because what can he say? That everything will be fine? That it’ll work out.
We both know life doesn’t work that way.
Later, after Jake’s gone to bed and Tommy’s asleep with Rex the dinosaur tucked under his arm, I sit in my room and stare at my phone.
Cole’s text from this morning is still there. The offer stands if you change your mind.
And below it, a text from Theo that came through around dinner: Heard about the café. Sorry, Rachel. Here if you need anything.
Two good men. Two people who care about me. Two potential complications I don’t know how to handle.
I type a response to both: Thanks. I’m okay.
It’s a lie. But it’s easier than admitting the truth.