Chapter 20
By the time November settled in, the air had that sharp edge that slipped under your coat and curled around your bones.
The kind of cold that wasn't too uncomfortable, but was a gentle warning that Fall was on its way out, and snow would soon be covering the leaves on the ground until spring.
Frost rimmed the edges of windshields in the mornings, and every once in a while, a thin lace of snow would fall overnight, melting by noon but leaving behind that reminder: winter was almost here.
The weeks blurred together.
At the bookstore, I unpacked holiday stock and decorated display tables while avoiding certain corners of town, avoiding him.
For most of the month, it worked... except for when it didn't, until he got my new number.
The first time, I answered without thinking, and the sound of his voice sent a cold spike through me.
He was frantic. I had never heard him like that before.
After that, I learned to ignore the unfamiliar numbers, though sometimes he switched them so fast that my guard slipped.
I had been barely staying at my apartment, so I only knew Andrew was still coming by because my superintendent would text me anytime he was around, and I knew to stay clear until he was gone.
My whole family wanted me to get a restraining order, but Victoria's words echoed in my mind that I wasn't the first or the last woman Andrew had cheated with.
I figured he'd find someone else and leave me alone.
The pain that shot through my heart at the thought was intense, but the guilt and shame tempered it whenever it got too great.
I loved him, I knew I did. But our love wasn't the kind I wanted; it wasn't what I had envisioned for my life.
Then came the email from his lawyer. Confirming that everything Andrew had been telling me was true, he was seeking a divorce.
I sat at my kitchen table with the message open, feeling both relief and that old twist of shame.
Part of me, the part that loved him, was happy he was doing what he had been promising for months.
.. but the other part, the newer part, was yelling it wasn't enough.
He wasn't enough. Too little too late. He lied too much, took too much.
I spent more time at my parents’ house than in my apartment.
On nights I wasn’t working, I was home, helping Mom peel apples for pies, watching hockey with Dad, letting Clara vent after Jackson was asleep.
I took him trick-or-treating, his plastic vampire teeth making him lisp through his candy inventory, and Clara actually laughed for the first time in weeks.
We celebrated Chase’s thirtieth with cake, whiskey, and Clara and me giving him grief about officially joining the “old” club.
I’d told Abby I’d stay through to the Christmas holidays.
It gave her time to train someone new, and it gave me time to…
figure out whatever came next. Every visit home, I brought something with me —a box of books, an armful of sweaters.
.. until the back seat of my car became a steady rotation of my life, migrating piece by piece.
Somewhere in the middle of the month, a new publisher’s offer landed in my inbox. I’d barely glanced at it before closing my laptop. I wasn’t ready to say yes. I wasn’t even sure I could. The emails kept coming anyway, each one a polite nudge to accept.
By the end of November, my room at my parents’ was nearly back to how it had been before I left.
I stood at the window, the frost feathering out from the corners of the glass, stars glinting like ice above the dark yard.
I was feeling uneasy, but I told myself it was the stress and the back and forth.
Tomorrow we would go celebrate with the Palmers for the opening of Adam's pub.
By Christmas, I’d be back home, and I would know what I was doing next.
The pub was lit up like a celebration, strings of warm lights crossing the ceiling, the air thick with the smell of beer and fresh-cut wood.
It was the kind of place that felt like it had been there forever, even though it was brand new, a warm, lived-in blend of rustic charm and polished intention.
He’d managed to merge farm-to-table dining with the easy comfort of a neighbourhood pub, pulling from the best of what our small community had to offer.
The bar top was crafted from reclaimed wood salvaged from his family’s barn, its surface burnished to a rich, golden sheen by hand.
The walls held photographs of local fields in every season, old farm tools given new life as décor, and shelves lined with jars of preserves and pickles from nearby kitchens.
Every menu item was a nod to something or someone in town.
.. the Palmer's small organic farm to larger local farms. From the steaks and burgers, vegetables and preserves, bread and pastries baked fresh, honey, and so much more. Even the drink list told a story, featuring local craft beers, Canadian wines, and small-batch spirits from distilleries within a few hours’ drive.
It was personal, intentional, and deeply rooted in place.
Music pulsed beneath the chatter, and every table seemed full.
Adam’s dream had come to life, and for a moment, I let myself feel happy for him.
We stepped inside as a group, me, Mom, Dad, Chase, and Clara, like we’d been doing this all our lives. Jackson was staying at a friend's for a sleepover. Adam’s place was packed to the rafters, but he had reserved a table near the heart of the room for us.
“I’m going to go say hi to Adam,” I told my family, smoothing my dress and ignoring the little knot of unease that had been lodged in my gut all evening.
Adam spotted me before I reached him, grinning like I’d just made his night. “Look who finally decided to grace my fine establishment,” he teased, leaning forward on his elbows. “You offering to work tonight, little Morgan?”
I smiled, the nickname pulling at old memories. “If you need help, old timer, I’m here. But I doubt you could keep up with me, and I don't want to make you feel bad.”
He barked a laugh, the sound cutting through the room, drawing a few heads our way, including Brody, who came up behind me like he’d been keeping an eye out.
“Careful,” Brody said, resting a casual hand on the bar beside me. “Chase is even more protective than normal right now.”
Adam smirked. “Oh, I’m sure I could get him to see the benefit of our families coming together.”
I snorted, Brody growled... which made Adam laugh. It was light, harmless banter… until it wasn’t. I felt it, the prickling at the back of my neck, the way the air seemed to shift. I turned, and there he was.
Andrew.
He was sitting in a booth with his body angled toward me, eyes locked on mine. Across from him sat a woman I recognized immediately, Victoria.
The moment our eyes met, his gaze dragged down me, lingering on the closeness between me, Brody, and then to Adam. My skin went cold.
Brody must’ve seen my expression because he followed my gaze and muttered, “Fuck.”
“What?” Adam’s voice was tight now.
“He’s here,” Brody said, jaw clenching.
Adam’s easy grin vanished. “Do you want me to have them leave?”
I stared at him. “You know, too?”
“Chase told me,” Adam admitted with a it's not a big deal shrug. “Said he’s worried about you. Said the guy’s got something… off about him. Looking at him now, I think he’s right.”
The shame burned instantly. “Great. One more person who knows what I’ve become. Did anyone think about the fact that I might not want half the county talking about this?”
Adam’s hand closed over mine, firm. “Cass, look at me. I know we haven’t been close, given the age gap, but I’ve always cared about you.
You’re like a little sister to me… which is confusing now, because you grew up.
" Then he winked before continuing, "But you’ve turned into an incredible woman. Mom and Dad brag about you every time I see them. Like, probably more than they have ever talked about me or Brody. They love how you worked through school instead of taking money from your parents like Chase and Clara, how you earned your double major. You’ve got more in savings than most people twice your age, and no one would ever know because that is not who you are.
You are humble, kind, funny, and fucking smart.
Beautiful in and out. That’s you, Cassidy. Not him. Not what he did to you.”
Someone shouted for Adam from the other end of the bar, pulling him away.
“I’ll walk you to our table,” Brody said, positioning himself between me and the booth.
We’d barely moved when Dean and Judy intercepted us, wrapping me in a hug.
“What’s wrong? This is a happy day,” Judy said, her brow creased.
“Andrew’s here,” Brody told them.
Dean’s expression went dark. “I’ll throw him out right now.”
“No.” I shook my head quickly. “I don’t want to make a scene. This is Adam’s night. Maybe I should just leave.”
“Fuck that,” Judy said sharply, so sharply it startled me. I’d never heard her swear. “You’re family. He leaves if there’s trouble. You stay.”
We made it to the table, but I couldn’t focus. Andrew’s gaze never left me, and every time I shifted, I caught another member of my family looking toward him, waiting for a reason to intervene.
It was like the night was passing in a blur, like I was underwater and only catching the odd question, not tasting the food or the wine that Clara kept refilling, but I barely touched.
Finally, I excused myself to use the washroom, hoping to catch a breath.
I didn’t make it far.
Andrew was waiting in the narrow hallway.
“You whoring yourself out to the farmer boys now?” His voice was low, poisonous. “Is that why you've been hiding from me? Which one are you fucking. Or is it both?”
I tried to pass him, but his hand shot out, clamping around my arm. He shoved me back against the wall, his grip hard enough to bruise. His palm closed over my breast, fingers digging in.
“You’re mine,” he growled, before dragging his tongue up my cheek. My stomach flipped in revulsion. His hand moved from my breast down to the hem of my dress, dragging it up.
“Stop,” I gasped, tears springing hot and fast. “Andrew, please... stop...”
And then he was gone, yanked back by Chase, who looked ready to kill him. He lunged, arm cocked back.
“Chase, no!” I grabbed at his arm. “He’s not worth it. Please. Not here.”
But then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
Victoria was standing now, her hand slowly stroking over a small but unmistakable baby bump. My chest caved in. I couldn't breathe. The tears were coming faster, blurring my vision.
A memory flashed through my mind, Andrew with his head on my stomach, playing with the mess we had made, pushing it back in.
"Baby, you make me feel primal, possessive.
I want to fill you with my babies. I want to see barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen.
I want you to stop taking your birth control. "
I laughed, but he looked at me seriously. "I can't get you out of my head. I need you to be mine. I need to know you won't leave me. I want you pregnant all the time."
I tried to bring levity to the moment by joking about him having a breeding kink.
But his intensity didn't let up. Part of me felt overwhelmed, a little scared by it. But part of me swooned, loved the idea that he was so consumed by me, us... our future.
I was pulled back to my painful present, trying to push all the memories of us from my mind.
“You said...” My voice cracked. “You promised you weren’t with her when you were with me.”
Andrew’s mouth curled. “It’s not even mine. I didn’t lie. Stop running from me. You. Are. MINE.”
The room had gone quiet, the music seeming to fade. Every eye was on us now. I could hear my dad’s voice raised in anger somewhere behind me. Dean was shouting for Adam to have Andrew removed.
It felt like the walls were closing in. I didn't want this. The pain in my chest was sharp, and it felt like every wound... every part of me that I had been trying to heal was being ripped open anew.
I turned to leave, desperate for the air outside, but Adam stepped into my path.
“Cass, wait...”
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I ruined your night.”
“You didn’t do anything,” he said fiercely. “I’ll take care of it...”
“You,” Victoria’s voice cut through the noise.
She was suddenly there, pointing at me, her other hand rubbing her belly for everyone to see.
“You little homewrecking whore. This tramp seduced my husband, got him to walk out on me, on our son, and on this baby.
What didn't you get enough when you were fucking my husband for a year? Now you are forcing him to divorce me?”
The words landed like a punch. Whispers rippled outward. I felt all eyes on me, on Victoria in all her perfection and her baby bump. His baby?
And then she slapped me.
For a second, the whole room froze. I didn't even register the pain at first. Then voices rose, some shouting my name, others hissing insults. I could feel the stares like needles in my skin.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stay. I ruined everything.
I pushed past Adam, ignoring the calls to stop, ignoring my family’s voices. The only thing I could hear was homewrecker, whore, ringing in my ears as I bolted out the door.