CHAPTER 14
Brew didn’t call her right away.
At first, it wasn’t hesitation—it was confusion.
He stood in his office long after his last case notes had been completed, his phone resting on the desk in front of him as he replayed the moment in the corridor again and again.
The timing hadn’t made sense.
Her reaction hadn’t made sense.
One second, she had been there—present, open in a way she hadn’t been before—and the next she was gone.
Closed off and distant.
And he hadn’t seen it coming.
“What the hell just happened…” he muttered.
The question lingered, unanswered.
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he worked through it piece by piece.
Sabrina.
The hug. Her kiss.
Randi’s expression.
And then it clicked.
Not confusion this time.
Understanding.
“Damn it.”
He reached for his phone.
The first call went straight to voicemail.
The second did the same.
“Randi, it’s me,” he said when the tone sounded again. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Call me.”
Minutes passed.
Then more, and he huffed in frustration.
No response came so, he texted.
We need to talk.
Again, nothing so, he sent
another.
You saw something out of context.
Still nothing.
By the time he called again, angst had settled in—not at her, but at the silence.
“Randi,” he said, more firmly now, “you don’t get to walk away from this without letting me explain.”
He ended the call, staring at the screen before setting it down.
Why does this matter this much?
The answer came without hesitation.
Because it’s her.
Across town, Randi sat curled into the corner of her couch, her phone face down on the table.
It had lit up more times than she wanted to acknowledge.
She hadn’t touched it.
Didn’t need to.
Her thoughts had been relentless since she left the hospital, circling back to the same conclusion.
You’re a fool. You knew better. All men are the same.
No. She chastised her inner voice. voice.That’s not true.
Her mind paused.
Then why does it feel like it is?
She pressed her eyes shut, the
argument in her mind refusing to quiet.
Why am I doubting him?
Because I’ve been wrong before.
Because I don’t trust what I see. Because I don’t trust myself.
Her hand curled slightly, the ache grounding her.
Her gaze shifted toward the phone.
Silent now.
But heavy.
By late afternoon, Brew found himself standing outside her house.
He hadn’t planned it.
He had simply driven by, gone around the block, and stopped. Looked.
Her car sat in the driveway beside a detached garage tucked behind the house.
Relief came first.
Then resolve.
The house itself caught his attention—small, but full of character. Bluestone and wood siding gave it warmth, the steeply pitched roof adding to its charm. A wraparound porch framed the front, flower boxes spilling over with color, and a rambling vine of roses climbing lazily along one side.
It was exactly what he would have expected.
Quiet.
Intentional.
Beautiful in a way that didn’t try too hard.
He knocked. Waited. Nothing.
He knocked again.
Still nothing. He rang the doorbell. Damn it.
His gaze shifted toward the garage.
Light filtered through a narrow glass panel in the side door.
He moved closer and glanced inside.
And stopped.
The space had been transformed into a studio.
She was working on a new canvas. The sight of it filled him with ease and expectation … happiness for her. Paints and brushes rested on a wide worktable, the air itself carrying the quiet energy of creation.
And at the center of it—
Randi.
She stood before a canvas, dressed in chinos, an oversized tee, black converse sneakers, and her long golden locks pulled up into a high ponytail.
She was a sight to behold. Her movements were slow, more deliberate, but no less expressive.
Each stroke was intentional, guided by something deeper than muscle memory.
Music filled the space. He remembered she told him at dinner she had a playlist she listened to while painting. It was over one hundred of the most romantic love song standards of all time sung by the greatest crooners like Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole.
Randi swayed slightly as she worked, lost in the rhythm and motion of the one she was listening to, in something that seemed to ease the strain she still carried.
Brew watched her for a moment longer.
This was who she was when she wasn’t afraid.
When she forgot to hold herself back.
He opened the door quietly and stepped inside.
She didn’t notice at first as she continued getting lost in the music. Her body moved gently with it.
Then something shifted.
Her brush slowed then stopped, and she turned slowly about … and she froze.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tightening instantly.
“You weren’t answering,” he replied.
“That doesn’t give you the right to just walk in.”
“I knocked.”
“You need to leave.”
“No.”
The firmness in his voice caught her off guard.
“Brew—”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what just happened,” he said, stepping closer. “Because whatever you think it was, you’re wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly, turning away. “This was a mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“And you don’t get to shut me out without letting me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” she snapped. “I saw everything I needed to see.”
“Then you didn’t see enough.”
“Please just go,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I don’t want to do this.”
“I do.”
She shook her head.
“Stop—”
“Hear me out!”
The words broke through everything.
She went still.
“What you saw isn’t what you think,” he said, his voice steady now. “Her name is Sabrina. She was my first surgical nurse. She moved away. She’s married, Randi. She’s here visiting with her husband, and she’s pregnant.”
The truth landed slowly.
Undoing everything.
“You walked in on something that had nothing to do with us,” he continued. “And instead of asking me, you decided what it meant.”
Randi stared at him, her breath catching.
“Oh my God …I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t give you a chance.”
“No,” he said, softer now, “you didn’t.”
Silence settled between them.
Not tense.
Just honest.
“I panicked,” she admitted. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
“I do,” he said gently.
Brew stepped closer.
The air between them had been a minefield of jagged silence for days, the weight of the misunderstanding threatening to snap the final thread of their connection. But as the truth finally tumbled out- messy, desperate, and raw—the static vanished.
“You are unforgettable, Randi,” he said quietly. “I can’t get you out of my mind.”
The moment unfolded slowly, naturally, everything that had been building between them finding its way forward without hesitation.
He didn't wait for her to respond. He moved forward, his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck, his thumb grazing the frantic pulse at her jaw. When their lips finally met, it wasn't the soft, tentative brush of a fairy tale; it was a collision.
The music swelled around them.
Unforgettable … the song was so fitting, heightening their experience.
It became a frantic pressure of two people who had looked into the abyss of losing each other and decided, in a heartbeat, to crawl back toward the light.
She pulled him closer, her fingers clutching without thought at the front of his shirt as if to anchor him there, grounding them both in the sudden, electric reality of now.
The anger that had nearly destroyed them burned away, replaced by a feverish hunger that had been building since the moment they met. In that kiss, the world narrowed down to the heat of their skin and the shared, shaky breath of a second chance.
Her response matched his, and together their bodies moved to the rhythm of the song.
Unforgettable…
Nat King Cole’s voice wrapped around the room, smooth and warm, settling into the moment as if it belonged there.
Unforgettable, that's what you are
Unforgettable though near or far
Like a song of love that clings to me
How the thought of you does things to me
Never before has someone been more
Unforgettable in every way
And forevermore, that's how you'll stay
That's why darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too
When they finally pulled apart, the air between them felt different. Everything seemed clearer, more open and real.
And for the first time since all of this began, there was nothing standing between them.