CHAPTER 11
Falling Without a Safety Net
Kathy — POV
Kathy stopped pretending it was "just visits" after a while.
It wasn't.
Not anymore.
Brad didn't feel like a customer now. He didn't even feel like a stranger. He had slowly become part of the rhythm of her days in a way she didn't fully notice until he wasn't there.
And when he wasn't there, the shop felt quieter than usual.
Not peaceful.
Just... missing something.
That was the part she didn't say out loud.
Today, she was arranging a new batch of roses when the bell rang.
She didn't need to look up anymore to know it was him.
But she still did.
Brad stepped inside.
Same calm presence. Same controlled movements. Same quiet energy that didn't match the chaos of the outside world.
Except now, something about him felt slightly closer.
Like the distance between them had shortened without permission.
"You're early again," Kathy said.
"I had time," he replied.
"That's your new excuse?"
"It's not an excuse."
She smiled faintly. "It kind of is."
He didn't argue.
That was new too.
He walked closer to the counter and looked at the flowers, but not for long.
Now he looked at her first.
Always her first.
"I don't need flowers today," he said.
Kathy paused. "That's also new."
"I just came," he added.
"Just came?" she repeated.
"Yes."
That should have sounded simple.
But it didn't.
Because Brad didn't do things "just."
Not in her experience.
Kathy leaned on the counter. "You're getting dangerous, you know that?"
"Dangerous?" he asked.
"For my routine," she said lightly. "I'm starting to expect you."
That made him pause.
Longer than usual.
"I don't want you to expect anything," he said quietly.
The tone was different this time.
Not casual.
Not distant.
Careful.
Kathy studied him. "Why?"
Brad hesitated.
Then said, "Because expectations change things."
That answer felt heavier than it should have.
Kathy didn't push it.
Instead, she said, "Too late for that."
He looked at her.
And for a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence between them wasn't empty anymore.
It was full of everything they weren't saying.
They ended up sitting outside again.
Same bench.
Same street.
Same late afternoon light. The Columbia River glinted through the gaps between buildings, catching the sun like scattered diamonds. Mount Hood watched over everything like a patient god.
But everything felt slightly different now.
Like something had already crossed a line they hadn't agreed on naming.
Kathy stretched her hands slightly. "You know," she said, "I think I'm officially used to you now."
Brad glanced at her. "Is that good?"
"I don't know yet."
That honesty made him exhale softly.
They sat in silence for a while.
But it wasn't awkward anymore.
It was familiar.
Too familiar.
Kathy watched people passing by. "Do you ever get tired of all... whatever your life is?"
Brad didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "Yes."
That surprised her.
Not because it was dramatic.
But because it was simple.
Truthful.
Unfiltered.
Kathy turned slightly toward him. "That's the first real answer you've given me in a while."
Brad looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"You usually think before you answer," she said. "Like you're filtering everything."
"I am."
"Yeah," she said softly. "I know."
Another pause.
Then she added, "You don't have to do that here."
That made him go quiet.
Longer than usual.
Kathy didn't push.
She just waited.
Brad stared at the street for a moment, jaw tightening slightly.
Then he said, "I don't know how to not do it."
That was the most honest thing he had said so far.
Kathy nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
"It does?"
"Yeah," she said. "If you've been doing it for a long time... it becomes normal."
Brad glanced at her.
"You say things like that too easily," he said.
Kathy shrugged. "I deal with people all day. You learn."
Silence again.
But softer now.
Less guarded.
Then Kathy said, "Can I ask you something?"
Brad nodded. "Yes."
"Do you have someone?"
That question landed differently.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
Just... direct.
Brad looked at her.
Longer this time.
Then said, "No."
Kathy blinked slightly. "No girlfriend? No wife?"
"No," he repeated.
A pause.
"And no one you're seeing?"
Brad shook his head.
Kathy leaned back slightly. "That's surprising."
"Why?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. "You just feel like someone who already has a complicated life."
"I do," he said.
"But not that kind of complicated?"
"No," he said quietly.
That silence between them changed again.
This time it felt more open.
More exposed.
Kathy looked away first, suddenly aware of something she hadn't wanted to name.
Brad wasn't just a regular visitor anymore.
He wasn't just interesting.
He wasn't just "different."
He was becoming important in a way that didn't feel safe.
Because there was nothing clear about him.
No labels.
No history she could see.
No certainty she could hold onto.
And yet —
she kept wanting him there.
That was the problem.
She stood up first. "I should close soon."
Brad nodded. "I'll go."
But like always —
he didn't move immediately.
Kathy noticed that pause more than she should have now.
It felt like habit.
Like they were both stuck in the same moment before reality pulled them apart again.
Then he finally stood.
"See you," he said.
Not a question.
Not a promise.
Just... a fact.
Kathy watched him leave.
The bell rang.
And the shop felt emptier than it should have.
Because now she knew something she hadn't admitted before.
She wasn't just waiting for him to come back.
She was starting to feel something every time he did.