Chapter 24
RIVER
River stared at the flowers on her countertop, her chin in her palms as her elbows rested atop the smooth laminate. She was mentally debating with herself, for what felt like the hundredth time, whether or not she should read the note.
How many times had she reached for the little card, only to pull back like it might burn her?
Countless.
She’d seen Mathew holding the flowers when she’d run into him and his wife.
Ex-wife, as she now knew.
Rose had filled in enough of the story for River to understand the broad strokes of what Mathew’s relationship with Victoria had been.
Even thinking the woman’s name left a bad taste in her mouth.
Her nose wrinkled as she shoved the memory aside.
It had only been a week since the scene in town, and she’d managed to avoid Mathew ever since.
She hadn’t gone into town once, sending Emerson instead whenever she needed anything.
She buried herself in work and rarely came up for air.
By the time she dragged herself upstairs each night, she was so worn out she usually fell asleep almost immediately.
The tears had long since dried up.
Her muscles ached from the extra hours she’d been putting in.
And yet, here she was, staring at those flowers. The ones that Emerson had called ridiculous.
They were beautiful flowers.
She’d never seen anything quite like them. They were perfect. Just her style. And the fact that they’d come from Mathew made it impossible to miss the care behind them. When Emerson had mentioned they were supposed to last longer than a standard bouquet, River had almost melted on the spot.
She’d never been one of those girls who expected or wanted flowers. The truth was, she barely had any experience with being given flowers at all.
The first bouquet from Mathew had felt sweet. Like a nice gesture.
But these were different.
These weren’t flowers picked out for just any woman. They’d been chosen with her in mind, and that somehow made them harder to look at.
The thought should have brought her some comfort. Comfort knowing that someone had seen her clearly enough to know what she’d like.
Instead, it hurt.
Every time she passed the arrangement, she fought two urges at once. One to read the card and call Mathew… another one to dump the whole thing in the trash and be done with it.
A sigh left her lips.
It was dark out, but for the first time in a week, she wasn’t tired enough to sleep. She’d spent hours in bed before finally giving up and wandering her apartment.
Maybe it was time to let Mathew explain.
Only he could tell her why he’d kept something that big from her. Only he could tell her whether Victoria had blindsided him too.
But River wasn’t brave enough to ask any of that. She hadn’t even brought herself to ask Rose whether Victoria was still in town or worse… whether Mathew had gone back to her now that River had made herself unavailable.
Coward.
That was what she was.
Still… at least she hadn’t packed up and ran. That counted for something, didn’t it?
A quiet knock on the door startled her. She froze, staring at it like opening it might unleash something she wasn’t strong enough to survive.
It could be Emerson. He’d been stopping by every night she was alone. Except tonight he’d barely been able to keep his eyes open.
The knock came again.
Then Mathew’s voice, unmistakable even through the door.
“I can see the lights on, River. Please let me in.”
The hair at the back of her neck rose. She shook her head, crossed the room, and flipped off the lights.
On the other side of the door, silence stretched for a beat.
“River,” he said again, voice muffled now. “Can we please just talk?”
Tears broke free before she could stop them. She turned away and headed for her room. As much as she wanted to give in, wanted answers, old wounds rose up faster than hope ever could.
Mathew had kept something from her.
Then he’d stayed behind to talk to Victoria after River walked away.
People had seen them at the coffee shop and seen Victoria crying. Seen her touching his hand.
Maybe there was an explanation for all of it.
Maybe there wasn’t.
And River didn’t know if she could survive hearing that he’d only come back for closure so he could find his way back to his ex.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”
River groaned and pulled the covers over her head. “What time is it?”
“Almost nine. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t come out of hiding yet. Usually, you’re up with the sun.”
“Usually, I don’t have a problem falling asleep,” she growled. “I only fell asleep three hours ago, Emerson. And what are you doing in my room?”
“I knocked,” he said. “You didn’t answer. I brought coffee.”
That’s when she smelled it. Rich and warm, the scent curled through the air and made her stomach tighten. Coffee wasn’t going to fix the lack of sleep, but it was a start.
“And,” Emerson added, “I was going to ask how you’d feel about going into town with me later.”
River lowered the covers just enough to glare at him. “What is this really about? Is he gone? Did he finally take off with his ex?”
Emerson’s expression softened.
River shot upright. “Shoot. That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
No, no, no, no.
A pulse of panic hit hard and fast. Maybe she should’ve let Mathew talk. Maybe she should’ve given him one chance before shutting him out completely.
“No, nothing like that,” Emerson said quickly, moving closer as if he could physically calm her down. “That’s not what I meant.”
River pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow.
“But it’s been over a week,” he said more gently. “And you can’t stay holed up forever.”
“I don’t want to see him, Emerson. You know why.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I do. And I get why this hit you the way it did.” He paused. “You were hurt in the past. But the truth remains that those people aren’t Mathew.”
River’s mouth dropped open. “You switched sides.” She shoved at him with her foot, not hard enough to mean it but hard enough to make her point. “Traitor.”
He huffed a laugh. “I haven’t switched sides.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’m serious.” He leaned back slightly, giving her space. “I’ve just been thinking.”
River rolled her eyes, flopped onto her pillow and pulled her covers over her head. “There’s your first mistake.”
“The thing is…” He hesitated, like he knew he was stepping onto thin ice. “Maybe all of this isn’t exactly what it looks like.”
She didn’t bother coming out from under the covers. She just let out a skeptical sound.
“I mean it,” Emerson said. “I overheard him arguing with Rose.”
That piqued her interest, but she still wasn’t willing to let Emerson see.
At her silence, Emerson continued with a sigh. “Maybe this has as much to do with old wounds as it does with what Mathew did.”
River threw the covers off and glared at him.
“Okay, yes.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “What he did wasn’t good. He should’ve told you. I’m not defending that. I’m just saying… maybe this hit harder because it touched a raw nerve that was already there.”
River’s jaw tightened. “You think I’m overreacting.”
“No.” His answer came fast. “I think you’re hurt. There’s a difference.”
That took a little of the heat out of her anger, though not much.
Emerson kept going, more carefully now. “And maybe talking to someone would help. Not because you’re broken. Not because your feelings aren’t valid. Just because carrying all this by yourself clearly isn’t working.”
“No,” she said immediately.
He held up both hands. “Fine. I’m not pushing.” Then he exhaled. “But listen to me—what Mathew did was thoughtless. I’m not saying otherwise. I’m only saying I’ve seen couples survive worse.”
River narrowed her eyes. “That’s not exactly comforting.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She crossed her arms. “He let me keep getting closer while holding something huge back. He should have told me about it before I started having all these feelings.”
Emerson’s expression sobered. “True. He should have.”
“And then there’s work.” Her voice sharpened despite herself. “He keeps saying I matter, but then he forgets me when things get busy. So tell me how I’m supposed to trust that won’t keep happening.”
Now Emerson was quiet.
When he spoke again, it was softer. “I don’t know. But I do know he’s trying. More than I expected, honestly.”
River hated the fact that part of her agreed.
She closed her eyes and waited for the rest.
“I’ve never heard Rose that mad,” Emerson said.
“She tore into him. And he took it.” He blew out a breath.
“He told her he didn’t know Victoria was in town.
Offered to show his phone. Rose wouldn’t take that as proof, obviously, but he didn’t back down.
He kept saying he messed up, not that he got caught. ”
River held up a hand. “Stop.”
The word came out weaker than she wanted, but Emerson listened.
She swallowed hard. “And how do you explain that he never even bothered to tell me he was married? That’s a pretty big topic of conversation for someone who wants to get serious, don’t you think?”
“I can’t argue with that,” Emerson admitted. “Which is why you should talk to him. You can’t let this continue to fester.”
“You promised if I didn’t want to talk to him, you’d stand guard for me.”
“I did.” He nodded. “And I will.”
She studied him. “So you’re not taking that back?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m just asking you not to let this sit so long it turns into something worse in your head than it already is.”
That landed closer to home than she wanted.
“I appreciate the attempt at reason,” she muttered. “But I’m not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
“That’s fair,” he conceded. Then he stood and set the coffee on her bedside table. “Just promise me you won’t make a forever decision without getting the truth first. It’ll be the not knowing that will hurt you the most.”
With that, he turned and headed out.
“I should never have given you a spare key,” she called after him.
His chuckle drifted back down the hall. “Yeah, yeah.”