Chapter Eighteen MAE
Chapter Eighteen
MAE
Rowan was nervous, which seemed out of character. I was the anxious one, and he wasn't supposed to be nervous. For maybe the sixth time tonight since we sat down at the table, he slid his palms over the tops of his thighs. The brushing sound was subtle over the denim.
The Gallery Café was chic but relaxed. Artwork from the gallery decorated the walls. The space had a tall ceiling with windows looking out over a marshy field. Dusk was leaching the light away. The mountains were cast in pink and lavender, alpenglow against the inky blue sky.
I took a sip of my water and glanced around the restaurant. Wooden tables with colorful placemats and tablecloths filled the space. The décor was modern with a touch of whimsy.
When my gaze made its way back to Rowan, my question slipped out, “What's wrong?”
He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”
I knew him well enough to know he was hedging. “You're nervous or something. What's up? You're not usually like this.”
His eyes closed, and he took a breath as he opened them. “Nothing.”
“Okay, don't bullshit me.” My belly felt funny, and uncertainty slid through me. “Just say what’s wrong.”
“Uh, now is not a good time,” he returned.
As I studied him, I knew. I didn’t know how I knew. But I knew he knew.
“How do you know?” My next question slipped out, my voice a little ragged on the edges as my heart thumped sickly inside my chest.
If there was one thing I was an expert at in life, it was tolerating this very feeling—this feeling of awfulness, of a secret that I hated, this feeling of knowing that it was mine to carry forever even as I labored to cast the weight off.
“Fuck.” His voice was sharp. “I'm sorry.”
“It's obviously not your fault,” I said calmly, literally feeling as if metal walls were falling down around me, like scales on an armadillo.
“Why didn't you tell me then?” he whispered hoarsely.
I couldn’t even look at him and stared down at the tablecloth, tracing my fingertips along the hem. “Because I didn't want to tell you. I don't want you to know now,” I said, my voice perfectly controlled even though I felt cold inside.
I didn’t want to, but I looked up. Rowan's intense green eyes searched my face before he dipped his chin slowly. “I know you don’t. I’m sorry.”
“How do you know? Tell me how you found out,” I demanded.
For some reason, I really needed to know this part.
He took a breath, letting it out swiftly.
“What happened always bothered me, and I didn't even know what happened. All I knew is that we were friends, and I totally had a crush on you. We finally went out, and then your roommate hit on me, which fucking sucked. And then, I know that you know nothing ever happened.”
I nodded because it was true. It's just because of what happened to me that night. I couldn't deal with facing anyone connected to Chet, and Rowan had been his roommate.
“Then you just stopped talking to me. And honestly, I couldn't forget you. I looked for you, but you just disappeared.”
“I didn't disappear,” I whispered, my heart feeling cracked open.
“Okay, maybe you didn't disappear, but you sure didn't make it easy to find you. You never answered my texts, you never answered my emails, you never answered my calls. And then, when this job opened up out here, I thought maybe we could reconnect, and I could finally figure out what the hell I did wrong.”
I couldn't lie to myself. It was bittersweet realizing that I'd meant as much to him as he had to me. Sometimes, things happen that ruin everything. The debris field left behind is so big that it encompasses other events and people, and everything gets destroyed. That’s what happened to Rowan and me.
He stared at me quietly. “I would never hurt you.”
My heart thumped painfully. I couldn’t protect myself from my emotions. I took a gulp of icy water, clinging to the cold glass as if it would somehow get me through this.
Rowan continued, “I wasn't going to say this tonight here at dinner because obviously this isn't a good place.”
I rolled my eyes, calling on some kind of composure to help me keep it together. Somehow, the shields around my heart held.
“I reached out to Darryl. I knew something weird had happened, but I just didn't know what. And, you know, he's married to Stephanie.”
Ah, so that’s how he found out. Stephanie knew. “So, they're still together?” I asked because that was a safe topic.
He nodded, his lips moving into the form of a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Happily married. I guess they already have one kid, about to have the next.”
Another sip of water. “Good for them. They were a good couple.”
“I would never hurt you, Mae. I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse, and I could feel the sense of helplessness emanating from him. Rowan liked to fix things, to take care of things. He couldn’t fix this.
“I know, Rowan. You’re the best kind of guy. It’s just—” I waved my hand in the air because I didn't even know how to explain it, and the feelings that kind of got stuck on him. It was like when tires burned on the pavement.
“I'm really sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for something you had nothing to do with.”
“Why did you stop talking to me? I would’ve helped you. I would’ve fucking kicked his ass.”
My chest ached, and emotion was knotted painfully in my throat.
“You were a domino in the series of events. If I’d never been at the party, it never would’ve happened.
I just wanted to forget everybody connected to him.
” I couldn’t even say Chet’s name out loud.
Not now. I feared if I did, I’d fall apart right here.
“What about now?” he asked.
“I wouldn't be having dinner with you if you were still a domino in my mind.”
“I was in love with you. I still am,” he said, his tone completely serious.
I had just taken a swallow of water and almost spat it out. “What?” I yelped after I grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the table and my mouth.
His gaze was solemn as he stared at me. “It's true.”
“Oh. Well, that sucks.”
“It sucks?” A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At my nod, he added, “I kept texting and calling, and then I stopped because I didn't want to be stalkery.”
“Stalkery? Is that a word.”
“For the moment, it works.” I couldn’t look away from his eyes even though it hurt.
My heart felt as if someone had scored it deeply with a knife. My defenses cracked. It felt as if a hairline fracture was somewhere in my psyche. In all of the defenses I'd built, Rowan was the fracture, or rather Rowan knowing what happened was.
“I just have one question,” he said.
“Just one?”
“Okay, maybe more, but one for now.” When I nodded, he asked, “Did you care as much as I did and still do?”
Oh, hell. I didn’t know if I could hold my tears at bay.
I closed my eyes and took a breath before I nodded, just once, really fast. Opening them, I collided instantly with his patient gaze.
“I don't know if I knew I was in love with you, but you were that guy, the one I really wanted it to be okay with.”
It was taking a lot of effort to keep those defenses up, but I managed because we were at a restaurant. I was actually relieved when the server showed up. She was in a hurry because the place was crowded. “Hi, how are we doing on the menu?”
Rowan's eyes held mine. I could tell he was waiting to see if I wanted more time. I didn't. I really needed to order some food. Even if I didn't think I could eat, I needed something to do with my hands.
“I'm ready,” I said, my voice coming out a little forced.
She whipped out a little computer tablet. “What will it be?”
“Didn't you mention a special? Something with a glazed salmon?” I asked.
“Yes, we have salmon with a maple glaze and roasted on a cedar plank that comes with risotto and asparagus.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I didn't even hear what Rowan ordered, but then he asked, “Did you want to share that appetizer?”
“Which one?” I asked blankly.
My mind had derailed into the horror of what this dinner date had turned into.
“The fondue? You used to love fondue.”
He smiled just a little bit, and my heart turned over in my chest. I wanted to cry. All the while, joy rose through the tangle of my emotions inside. When we'd first become friends before we'd actually dated in college, we'd bonded over our shared love of fondue at a little café that served it.
“Yes, I’ll share.”
He looked back up at the server. “That'll do it. Did you want anything other than water to drink?” she asked, glancing back and forth between us.
“I'll take a glass of the house wine,” I said quickly.
“I'll take a beer, whatever the house draft is,” Rowan added.
She hurried off, and then we were alone again. Even though we were in a busy restaurant surrounded by a low hum of voices, it truly felt as if we were alone. Caught in his gaze, I couldn't look away. I wanted to avoid this so very, very much. But I couldn’t.
He reached over and caught one of my hands in his. “Jesus, Mae, you're freezing,” he said, reaching for my other hand.
His palms were warm and dry as they curled around mine, and his touch was a balm to my unsettled and raw emotions.
“I'm sorry,” he repeated.
“You really don't have to apologize,” I said through the lump in my throat.
“But I do. I knew something was really wrong, but I didn't know what. I should’ve known.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
“Just to be super clear, you know nothing happened with your roommate, right?”
I nodded quickly. “I did. Everyone filled me in, and she was pissed about it.”
“That's kind of beside the point, though, isn't it?” he asked, his tone low and laced with an intensity that surprised me.
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Well, my fucking roommate raped you,” he said flatly.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered hoarsely.
“How do we start over?”
Ah, now that was the gigantic question. Encountering a big, bad wolf literally seemed like child’s play compared to figuring out how to vanquish my own fears and the memories I’d tried so very hard to bury.
I told myself I should pull my hands away from his, but his touch felt so good.
It was such a subtle thing. There was a reason I'd crushed on him before and halfway fallen in love with him.
He'd been such a solid, good guy—always strong and stable, always easy and comfortable to be around. I trusted him on a deep level.
As I looked over at him, I thought about the therapist I’d gone to see a few years ago.
She’d been really helpful. Thanks to her, I didn't have nightmares anymore even though I’d still hated how things ended for Rowan and me back then.
My therapist had told me that trying to date someone might be a crucial step for me.
But I didn't hate myself anymore for what happened, and getting to that point had been an internal battle I’d won.
I knew I had done the only thing I could have done at the time.
All I could do now was go forward. I wondered about reaching out to that therapist. It had been a while, but she would probably love to know Rowan had found me, and we’d reconnected.
“That was what this dinner date was supposed to be about. We were going to start over, and all the shit that happened wasn't going to be between us,” he said quietly.
“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can’t change the past. It’s all there anyway,” I rasped.
“Mae, were you going to try to keep that from me forever?”
I blinked as the tears stung my eyes. Shrugging, I replied, “I guess so. I don't want it to define me.”
My hands were warming under his touch. His eyes searched my face. “It doesn't define you, not to me. I hate that it happened, but I'm glad I know.”
The emotional fracture created by cutting Rowan out of my life was cracking open slowly.
Instead of unbearable pain, it ached, but it also felt as if sunlight was slipping through.
What lay behind it was dark and cold, and I was weary of carrying this alone.
I had told those few friends in college what happened but then had rarely spoken of it again except in therapy.
My college friends had all been decent enough to let me keep it quiet.
I simply hadn’t been ready for more. I didn't think I could’ve kept it a secret forever.
Yet silence about events gives so much power to secrets.
The longer the silence holds, the more powerful the secret becomes.
I took a breath, my chest loosening a little. Rowan’s thumb brushed across the back of my hand, the subtle touch soothing me.
“It's weird, but I guess I'm relieved someone else told you.”
“I don't think Stephanie would’ve said anything if I hadn't asked Darryl.”
“It's okay. I haven't been in touch with her for years. I know she didn't do it in a gossipy way.”
The server arrived with our drinks. I felt a little bereft when Rowan let go of one of my hands to lift his beer.
Tendrils of warmth encircled my heart when he kept one hand firmly in mine and laced his fingers through mine.
His thumb kept brushing in light strokes, and warmth radiated from his touch, sliding through me like a soft summer breeze in the trees.
I took a swallow of my wine. “Oh, that's good.”
“You look surprised,” he said with an arch of a brow.
God help me. Even when he lifted a brow, my belly swooped. “Well, I've never had gooseberry wine. It was kind of a risk.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners with his warm smile. He took a swallow from his draft beer, lowering it and commenting, “This is good too.”
“There are some good breweries in Alaska. The menu says everything here is from a brewery in Anchorage.”
He dipped his head in agreement. “Are we officially changing the subject?”
I needed another sip of my yummy wine. Swallowing, I shrugged. “See, that's why I hate it, why I never wanted you to know. It becomes this thing that sucks up all the air.”
“Mae, you were one of my best friends in college, and I thought we had a shot at something more. And then, that was it. You weren’t my friend, and I didn’t know what happened.”