3. Meredith
MEREDITH
“You want to explain this?” I hold up the key card I picked up on my way over.
When Mark texted me the address, I’d been three hours into the bus ride to New York and too tired to question it. It wasn’t until I noticed the marble flooring beneath my splitting sandals that I even registered that my destination might’ve been out of my price range.
“Typically, I think it’s used to open hotel doors.” Mark, for his part, looks like he flew here first class and had time to change between visiting the federal holding facility and showing up in court.
We’re standing in the foyer now, the last attendees of the afternoon’s theatrics, as we wait for June to be released on bail. The money for which also remains glaringly undiscussed.
“I get it. Setting me up in New York semi-permanently helped with the bail request.” Even though I hadn’t been informed of this plan until I heard it play out in court, it was one I could begrudgingly admire. “But there is caviar on the breakfast menu.”
That smile. “So you’re angry at me because the hotel I’m paying for is too nice for you?”
The scowl on my face is practically a Pavlovian response to his tone. Although, in my defense, I haven’t slept in almost forty-eight hours. That’s the only reason my heart flips. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“I’m angry because you’re throwing your money around without asking.”
“Our money.” Insufferable man that he is.
I grit my teeth. “What’s the catch?”
“You think so little of me?”
“Yes.”
He barks out a laugh, as if anything about this is remotely amusing. “You know what the catch is. You’ve done your part already.”
Carmen had emailed over confirmation on hour four of the bus ride. Our divorce is officially nullified with only a few days to spare. It might’ve been romantic if it were anybody else, but as it stood…
“And you know there’s no way I’m not re-filing the second this is over. So why bother laying out the red carpet?”
He shrugs. “You could thank me, you know. For getting your sister bail—she’s a peach, by the way. I can’t believe you never introduced us.”
“You can’t tell her about this.” I have nothing but a stern look to threaten him with. “She has enough to deal with without feeling guilty about me. She doesn’t need to know.”
“Are you asking me to be your dirty little secret?”
“Stop it.” I clear my throat to ward off the shakiness in my voice. “I know what you’re doing, so let me make this very, very clear. I don’t want you here, either. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be just to prove a point to your father.”
Finally, the smile drops, and the fa?ade crumbles into the irritation beneath it. “Who said I didn’t want to be here?”
For a single, horrifying moment, I almost believe him. The exhaustion of the day, the adrenaline of the arraignment, and the fear for my sister. All of it, weighing too heavily on a woman who’s only just managed to forget what it feels like to call this man home.
But whatever response I might’ve come up with is lost to the sound of the doors opening and June finally being released into my arms.
“June.” I find myself sobbing into her shoulder.
Clinging to something real. Wishing this nightmare could be over.
May 2026 - Present
I wait until Richard gets home before setting out. Whether this is due to my obligation to my mother or fear of what I might encounter when I arrive at Birdie’s, I’m not entirely sure.
Mainly because my morning mail has haunted me all day.
It’s a freedom I’ve been waiting for—fantasizing about—for months. But now that it’s here, it feels so very, very overwhelming.
I’m far too conditioned to hiding it, keeping it secret, and waiting for it to be over. After a while, you become accustomed to that weight on your chest, the tremendous pressure of anxiety. I never thought anxiety would linger after the pressure finally lifted.
In truth, I’ve been too ashamed to look Eddie in the eye since New York. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t drag him into this again without definitive proof, knowing this time it was over for good.
Tearing myself away after Christmas had been hard enough.
It was a mistake on my part to think I’d washed my hands of their manipulations once the trial was over.
I’d been so eager, so relieved for everything to finally go back to normal that I never even questioned it.
I never thought to wonder why Mark had let it go, even after I begged him to help June one last time.
I couldn’t make the same mistake again. I had to wait until the papers were in my hand.
There was no way I could trust Mark with even an inch. I spent the last few months half-expecting him to swoop in unannounced with another deal that would force me to change my mind.
Isolating was safer. It might’ve been cowardly, but it was safer.
And now, as I pull into Birdie’s on a mild Thursday evening, I finally get to make good on all the promises I made to myself. To justify all the waiting and isolating and panicking and waiting some more.
Even if it absolutely terrifies me.
It’s been five months since I last set foot in the bar across from the Lobster Shack—five months since Mark ruined the best Christmas I’ve had in years.
It’s a relief to see that nothing has changed, that the locals still fold themselves into all available corners, and the music still riffs with Osbourne-esque enthusiasm, that the bar?—
My eyes snag on the bar because something has changed.
I don’t recognize the bartender.
She has her hair piled atop her head, and her shirt sleeves are ripped off, revealing a myriad of patchwork tattoos on her arms. Twenty-something, if I were going by the nose piercing, the dimples, and the easy way she chats with a couple of patrons loitering around as she pulls the handle for a draft beer.
She fits in seamlessly into the “modern twist on an old dive bar” that Eddie has been cultivating for years. And she’s the first new hire since Eddie turned twenty-one.
It’s not like it’s this huge, momentous occasion or anything. It’s just that I…well, I missed it. I don’t even know her name or why Eddie decided to call in help—whether Roland had anything to say about it, or whether he was finally finished pretending he’d retired to actually retire.
The thoughts bring me up short, slowing down my approach. An old pain rearing its ugly head. Because I missed out again, didn’t I? I missed even more of the lives of the people I love just because I was being a coward. Again. Because I was ashamed. Again.
“Hey, can I get you something?” She has a southern twang to her voice; it’s just enough of a jarring surprise to stop me from spiraling.
I force a smile. “Yeah. I’m actually looking for Eddie. Is he in?”
“Sure, he’s just ’round back.” She gestures to the room in question. “I’ll go get him.”
“Th-thanks,” I stutter out, a bit too brightly.
But before she can leave her spot, I hear, “Meredith?” It’s ridiculous the way his voice sends a shiver down my spine. It’s the anxiety of this whole situation, it has to be. There’s no reason I should be this affected.
It doesn’t make it any easier when I turn to look at him.
Because I’ve missed him, I’ve missed him so much. And I’ve been thinking about this moment for months, wondering how I might finally explain to him what happened. All under the assumption that he’d still be here, waiting for me, like nothing had changed.
But of course, it has. He’s not even wearing a flannel today.
I’ve been so stupid.
And now he’s looking at me with a heavy degree of caution that I absolutely deserve, yet can’t help but fear all the same.
“Hey, Eddie.” I swallow whatever has decided to lodge itself in my throat. “You got a minute?”
As the man before me registers the question, the woman next to me gasps sharply. “You’re Meredith?”
Eddie blinks something from his expression before striding over to join us. “Mer, this is Louisa. She’s my…” He waves his hand idly.
Louisa jumps right in. “I’m Roland’s sister’s niece. Step-grand-niece, technically, but it gets more confusing the more you stare at it.”
“She’s helping out,” Eddie tacks on the end.
“Pleasure to finally meet ya.” She throws out a hand for me to shake.
I take it politely, hoping my expression isn’t too self-deprecating. “You too.”
“You wanted to talk?”
Eddie might’ve made a gesture toward the booth, but Louisa’s eyes flicker toward her…cousin? With a look of concern that makes me want to turn around and walk straight back out of the building.
Instead, I’m left jogging after Eddie, trying to ignore the way her gaze seems to burn into my back. “She seems nice,” I say once we’ve taken a seat, trying for nonchalant instead of obviously prying.
Eddie, of course, sees the comment for what it is and indulges me anyway. “Dad had another hip surgery.”
Oh, that old pain just bruises.
“What? When?”
“End of March.” He lets out a long breath.
“He’s fine, obviously. He just couldn’t move around too much to begin with, so I had to help him when June wasn’t around.
Louisa reached out outta the blue, really.
Something about an ex-girlfriend and needing somewhere to lay low for a while. She’s been a bit of a blessing.”
“Eddie, I’m so sorry.” My voice cracks a little. “If I’d known?—”
“You wanted space, remember?”
I recoil. “That’s not… Roland is like a father to me; you should’ve told me about this. June should have.”
He just looks at me, blank-faced.
It’s immature of him. Immature of both of them, really. A petty sort of omission that he had to know would hurt me.
Despite everything I’ve done to him and every misstep I’ve taken, Eddie has never been petty before. The man I know would’ve at least… It’s just not something he would do… It’s almost as if…
It hits like a train.
It’s exactly what June would do.
“How’s your mom?” he redirects without dropping that blank look.
I stare at him. “Why are you being like this?”
“I’m just asking about the woman who’s like a mother to me.”
“Stop it.”
I see the veins in his arms bulge as he clenches his fists.
Something is very, very wrong.
“What do you want, Mer?”
A question I could’ve answered extensively and with enthusiasm only an hour ago now feels like a minefield. Had I really been so na?ve as to think I could walk back into his life without consequences for my five-month absence?
“I just…wanted to talk. See how you are.” I scramble for anything that might make sense of this. “I know our last conversation wasn’t what you wanted. But I’ve really appreciated this time to figure things out and look after my mom and?—”
Eddie starts laughing. It’s a bitter, awful sound. “So all it took was for him to come back for you to realize you needed me as a buffer again.”
“What are you talking about?”
He wipes a hand over his face, clearing away his smile. “You want to know how I am, Mer? I’ll tell you. It’s actually kinda a funny story.”
“Eddie…”
“So I have this girlfriend, right?” he starts, giving me a pointed look. “And I’ve been in love with her for decades now. We decide to finally make a good go of it, and it’s just…perfect. Really, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
My chest rises and falls erratically, even though I can’t feel the breath leave my lungs.
“Then she has to leave for a bit, a couple of times. It’s not her fault.
I can’t blame her for it. Only, she’s going away with her ex-husband, right?
And they’re spending all this time together, and that’s fine because I trust her.
I know he treated her like crap before, so I’m not worried.
I’m not even worried when she comes back from New York and proceeds to ghost me for months.
I think maybe she’s just processing everything that happened with her family.
Maybe it’s kinda on me for rushing us back into a relationship, and she needs time to figure out what direction she wants it to go in before, you know, heading down the aisle again. ”
My breathing stops altogether.
“But then, all of a sudden, she’s showing up at my bar. Asking me how I’ve been. The same day that her ex-husband wanders into town.”
And just like that, it all slots into place. “Mark is here?”
He scoffs. “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”
I barely hear him over the white noise. “I swear. Eddie. I had no idea. Why is he… Why would he…”
“You wanna look me in the eye and tell me it’s a coincidence?”
In the end, it’s the easiest thing I’ve probably done since I walked in here. “Eddie, I haven’t spoken to him since I left New York. I have no clue why he would show up now.” And it’s the truth.
As Eddie looks like he’s cementing every word to memory, his shoulders tentatively sag into a more familiar, relaxed position.
It’s in the moments after that I realize I’m lying. That I actually have a very good idea why Mark would show up here. Now. After all this time.
It arrived in the mail this morning.
“This whole thing has been messing with my head,” he admits, his expression defeated. “I want to trust you, Mer. I do trust you. I just can’t shake the feeling that he’ll try to take you away from me.”
My hand tentatively crosses the space between us, resting gently on his. “He can try.”
His hand twitches beneath mine before twisting over, entwining our fingers. “This is too important to me. I need to know that we’re doing it—that I’m doing it—right. I’ve been waiting for you for so long, and I just…”
“I’m sorry,” I breathe out. “This is my fault.”
He smiles as he stares at our entwined hands. “I’m the one who jumped down your throat the second you walked in.”
“No, I deserved it.”
“Mer—”
“I’ll talk to him,” I interrupt, firm now. Resolved. The white noise fades with every second his skin presses against mine. “I’ll figure out why he’s here, see if I can’t send him packing. Then we’ll try this conversation again. Deal?”
He lifts our joined hands and kisses the back of mine. “Deal.”