25
The name snatches the air from my lungs. “I don’t believe it.”
Joel’s head jerks toward Owen. He looks as stunned as I feel. “Are you certain?”
We’re standing beside Joel’s Jeep. The cake box is stored safely in the back seat. Owen had insisted Joel be present for this conversation, and now I understand why.
“We’re sure,” Owen says. “Farah confessed when we knocked on her door.”
I press a hand to my stomach, trying to ease the hard knot there. “What led you to her?”
“One of her neighbors spotted the spray paint can in her trash. The color matches the tag on your car. They called it in, and we followed up.”
I spread my hands helplessly. “But why would she do it?”
Owen’s brown eyes settle on Joel for a beat before shifting back to me, giving nothing away. “Looks like she was jealous of you.”
“Me?” It comes out as a disbelieving squeak.
He nods, adjusting the brim of his hat, a familiar habit. “It seems she had her sights set on Joel, and then you came along. Jealousy got the better of her, and she decided to send you a message. And not a kind one.”
“No, it wasn’t kind,” I whisper, my brain still struggling to process Owen’s revelation.
Joel bows his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe she went that far.”
I’m acutely aware of the strain and tension in his posture. Everything about him radiates blame he doesn’t deserve. I want to tell him it isn’t his fault, but I can’t. Not with Owen here.
I take a long, centering breath. “What happens to her now?” I ask Owen.
He scratches his jaw. “We brought her in for questioning. We’ll finish the paperwork, and she’ll be released pending charges. Which brings me to you.” His face softens. “As the victim, you get a say here. Do you want to press charges?”
My chest squeezes. “I don’t know,” I stammer. “Not really.”
Joel turns to me, his frown deepening. “She vandalized your car. You don’t want her thinking she can get away with something like this.”
I bite my lip. “I agree, but I don’t want her life ruined over one mistake.”
“So she gets to call you a whore and walk away with a slap on the wrist?” he demands. “That’s the message you want to send?”
I turn to Owen. “Does she even seem remorseful?”
He gives a small shrug. “She says she is. Hard to say if that’s regret or just regret at being caught.”
Joel straightens. “Is this her first offense?”
Owen nods. “She has a clean record, aside from a couple of speeding tickets.”
I let out a slow exhale. “Then I don’t want to press charges. Not this time.”
Joel frowns. “Kenzie—”
“This is what I want,” I say firmly. “I don’t want to punish her. I just want this to be over.”
Owen studies me for a long moment before nodding. “All right. We’ll document your decision in the report, and she’ll be issued a formal warning. But if anything like this happens again, we’ll be revisiting the charges.”
“Okay. Thank you for everything,” I whisper, fighting unexpected tears.
“Stay safe, both of you.” Owen gives my shoulder a quick squeeze before heading back to his cruiser.
The moment Owen leaves, silence swells between us, the air thick with a new tension.
I reach out to touch Joel’s arm, but he steps back. The guilt rolling off him is so strong my heart twists with the urge to ease it.
“Joel,” I say softly. “This isn’t your fault.”
For a heartbeat, I think he’ll meet my eyes, but he doesn’t. His gaze stays fixed on the sidewalk. “I need to get to the shoot,” he informs me in a terse voice. “We’ll talk tonight. Drive home safe.”
I watch in helpless frustration as he climbs into his car and drives away, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk.
The hollow ache in my chest tells me tonight won’t bring us closer. Instead, I have the terrible feeling it’ll be the night he shuts me out for good.
I toss my keys onto the entry-hall table and trade my ankle boots for slippers.
There’s leftover pumpkin soup in the fridge, but my stomach is too knotted with tension to eat.
Instead, I busy myself tidying the house, washing dishes, and updating friends and family about Owen’s visit and Farah’s confession.
The doorbell rings just before seven. My heart gives a little jolt. Joel had texted he couldn’t get here until after eight. Was he early?
I open the door, and freeze. It isn’t Joel standing on my front porch but Farah.
Alarm sweeps through me. After what she did, I can’t believe she showed up at my home. My first instinct is to slam the door before she can do anything else.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” Farah rushes to say. “I just...I wanted to say how sorry I am.”
I hesitate, taking in her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. My heart continues to pound too hard, but I don’t close the door. I measure her for a long moment. There’s no malice in her face, only shame. Still, I’m not ready to let her in.
“I would ask you inside but...” I let my shrug finish the thought. But I’m not sure I can turn my back on you just yet.
“I understand.” Her voice wavers. “I had to apologize in person. I don’t even know what I was thinking.”
“That was a really ugly word, Farah.”
Her cheeks turn bright red. “I know. And I didn’t mean it. It was just...” Her gaze drops to the porch floorboards. “I really like him. I thought maybe there could be something real between us. But he only has eyes for you.”
My throat tightens. “And you blamed me for that?”
“I wasn’t thinking straight. I got so jealous I did something mean and stupid. Something I’ll regret for the rest of my life.” She swallows, her hands twisting together in front of her. “I also want to thank you for not pressing charges.”
A little of the tension in my chest eases.
The word scrawled on my car fades, and all I see is a lost and lonely woman filled with remorse.
I can only imagine how loneliness can tip over into desperation.
What she did was wrong, but showing up here and humbling herself like this. ..that takes courage.
“Thank you for apologizing,” I say softly.
Her shoulders slump with relief. “I get what Joel sees in you. You’re gorgeous. The town’s golden girl. But it’s not just your looks. You’re also a lovely person.”
I shift awkwardly, a blush stealing over my cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She flashes me a rueful smile. “I think that’s part of why you’re so attractive. You don’t even realize how stunning you are.”
I find myself smiling back. “Thank you. But for the record, you’re gorgeous too.” And it’s true. She is.
Farah tilts her head. “Don’t even get me started on Joel. I mean, does he even know how ridiculously attractive he is?”
A startled laugh escapes me, the tension breaking. “I have no idea.”
For the first time, we share something real, even if it’s a little awkward. An admission that being drawn to Joel is almost inevitable.
“Come by the salon sometime,” she urges. “I’d love to get my hands on your hair.”
I must flinch, because she says, “You’re worried I’ll chop it off or dye it orange, aren’t you?”
I shrug sheepishly. “Something like that.”
She lets out a boisterous laugh. “Honestly? The same thought would cross my mind.”
Her laugh disarms me, loosening something tight inside. “I’m not ready to let you inside just yet,” I admit, “but maybe...maybe we could grab coffee sometime?”
Gratitude fills her eyes. “I would love that. Thank you.”