Chapter 22
Rachel
Rachel was shelving childrens books when it hit her.
She was in love with Ryan MacKenzie.
The hardcover in her hands slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a thud that echoed through the empty stacks. Rachel stared at it.
Not falling. Not maybe. Not cautiously testing the waters.
In love. Actually, completely, undeniably in love.
"Oh no," she whispered to the empty aisle.
This wasn't the plan. The plan had been simple: date casually, keep her guard up, protect her heart at all costs. Don't get swept away. Don't get hurt again and maintain control.
Rachel bent to pick up the book, her hands trembling. When had it happened?
Maybe it had been his text at 2 AM, three weeks ago.
I can't sleep. I'm on Chapter 15 of Pride and Prejudice and I NEED to know if Mr. Darcy is actually a good guy.
This is torture. The way he'd typed in all caps, genuinely stressed about whether Elizabeth would reject Darcy forever.
She'd fallen asleep smiling at her phone.
Or last week, the panic attack in his truck after they'd run into those so-called former high school friends of hers from Burlington.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't think after meeting her high school bullies again.
Mac had pulled over immediately. Hadn't asked what was wrong.
Hadn't told her to calm down. Just held her hand and counted breaths.
In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.
You're safe. I've got you. When she could finally speak, he'd asked if she wanted to talk about it or watch terrible action movies. Just patient. Just there.
Maybe it had been three days ago, him reading her annotations in Emma while she made coffee. You write in your books? Delighted, not horrified. It's like you're having a conversation with the author. Tracing her note with his finger—"Emma is projecting her own fears onto Harriet"—like it mattered.
It wasn't one big moment. It was a hundred small ones.
She loved him.
Not because of grand gestures or perfect moments.
Because of 2 AM texts and annotations in the margins. And the wedding was in one week.
Dread pooled in her gut. One week until she'd be his date in front of the entire town, making a very public statement that they were together. That she was choosing this. Choosing him.
One week until everything could fall apart again.
She should be happy. She should be planning what to wear, imagining dancing with Mac, letting herself dream about a future. But instead, all she could think about was the news headline she'd seen that morning. The one she'd been obsessively checking for weeks now.
Derek Matthews was coming to Vermont. "Consulting" with regional hockey teams. Which meant he could show up in Evergreen Cove any day now.
Rachel gripped the shelf, the wood grain pressing into her palm. Her mind raced through scenarios, each one worse than the last. Derek showing up at Mac's game. Derek meeting with the Eagles. Derek seeing her with Mac and realizing she'd found happiness again.
What would he do?
She still didn't fully understand what she'd done to make him target her the first time.
Oh, she had pieces of it, the way he'd looked at her sometimes when Brad wasn't paying attention, comments that felt too personal, that night at the team event when he'd cornered her and she'd made an excuse to walk away, uncomfortable but trying to convince herself she was overreacting.
At the time, she'd thought Derek was just being friendly.
Supportive. A good friend to Brad who wanted to get to know his girlfriend better.
It wasn't until months later, after everything fell apart, that she'd replayed those conversations and felt sick. Brad had started pulling away almost immediately after. She could see that now. He’d started questioning their relationship.
Started saying she was holding him back, that she wasn't exciting enough, that she was too serious, too boring, that she'd never fit into his world.
Rachel had thought she was the problem. Had believed every word.
It had taken months after the breakup for her to learn the truth.
A drunken teammate at a bar, feeling guilty, telling her that Derek had been in Brad's ear the whole time.
Planting doubts. Suggesting she wasn't right for him.
Convincing him that breaking up with her publicly would be "good for his socials. "
She still didn't know all of Derek's reasons. Didn't want to think about what it meant that a man could orchestrate the destruction of her relationship just because... why? Because she'd walked away from him? Because she hadn't responded the way he wanted?
Rachel forced herself to keep shelving books, anything to stop her hands from shaking. The worst part was knowing she should have seen it coming. Should have recognized the pattern.
But she'd been too ashamed. Too confused. Too convinced that somehow it had been her fault. That she had led him on.
And now Derek was coming here. To Mac's town. Mac's team. And she still hadn't told him. Hadn't explained that the man targeting Cole's fiancée, attacking Mac's family, might have a very personal reason for being here.
Might be here because of her.
"Rachel, dear, you look pale. Are you all right?"
Rachel jumped, nearly dropping another book. Mrs. Henderson stood at the end of the aisle, her usual stack of romance novels absent, her expression concerned.
"I—" Rachel's voice came out rough. She cleared her throat. "I'm fine. Only... thinking."
"About Mac?" Mrs. Henderson moved closer, her sharp eyes taking in Rachel's white knuckles on the shelf. "Or about something else?"
Rachel let out a shaky laugh. "How do you always know?"
"You've been staring at that same shelf for ten minutes. And you look like you're about to bolt." Mrs. Henderson's voice gentled. "What's wrong, dear?"
Rachel sank onto the small stool they kept in the stacks, rules be damned. "I'm in love with him."
"Well, yes. That's been obvious for weeks." Mrs. Henderson settled onto the stool next to her. "So why do you look terrified?"
"Because last time I was in love with someone, it ended with me standing in front of two hundred people while he told everyone I wasn't enough."
Rachel's voice dropped lower, even though they were alone. "And the Hansen wedding is in one week. I'm going to be Mac's date in front of the entire town. I don’t know if I can do it."
"Mac is not your past," Mrs. Henderson interrupted firmly.
"I know. I know he's different. I know he's kind and patient and—" Rachel's throat tightened. "But there's something I haven't told him. It wasn't only a bad breakup. Someone else was involved. Someone who... made it happen."
Mrs. Henderson's expression sharpened. "Does Mac know about this person?"
"He knows he exists." Rachel trailed off.
Doesn't know the whole story. Doesn't know Derek might come after him next.
"Rachel." Mrs. Henderson's voice held steel beneath the kindness.
"Whatever you're running from; it's going to catch up with you eventually.
Especially if you're building a life here with Mac.
And if there's something he needs to know, something that could hurt him or your relationship, you need to tell him before he finds out another way. "
"What if telling him makes it worse? What if it ruins everything?"
"And what if not telling him ruins it instead?" Mrs. Henderson stood, patting Rachel's shoulder. "Love requires trust. Complete trust. Not halfway, not with one foot out the door ready to run. If you love MacKenzie, really love him, then trust him with the truth. All of it."
Rachel watched her walk away, the words echoing in the quiet stacks.
Trust him with the truth. All of it.
Her phone buzzed. Sophie's name lit up the screen.
Sophie: Wedding dress emergency. Need your help. Can you come to the boutique on your lunch break? Ellie's having a meltdown.
Rachel: Is she okay?
Sophie: Define okay. She hates her dress alterations. Can you come? 12:30?
Rachel: I'll be there.