15. Freya
— ? —
Freya
Rex was leaning against his truck with nothing in his hands.
The Ridgecrest parking lot was nearly empty, the last of the evening light painting everything in shades of orange and pink. My shift had ended an hour ago, but I’d stayed late to help Dana with inventory, mostly to avoid thinking about the notebook still sitting in my bag.
I’d planned to return it. That had been my intention all week. Find Rex, hand over the notebook, maybe exchange a few polite words before going our separate ways. Clean, simple, no complications.
But every time I’d seen him in the parents’ section, I’d chickened out. Something about the vulnerability in those pages felt too raw to acknowledge out loud.
Now here he was, standing beside his truck like he’d been waiting for me, looking more nervous than I’d ever seen him.
“I’m not hiding any gifts,” he said as I approached. “Or surprises. Just me.”
“I noticed.”
“I wanted to ask you something. You can say no. I’ll respect whatever you decide.”
My heart was beating too fast. “What do you want to ask?”
“Go on a date with me.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“A date. A real one. The kind we should have had before I married you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, like he didn’t know what to do with them.
“I realized I never actually asked you out. I never took you to dinner or a movie or any of the normal things people do when they’re trying to build something together.
And I just assumed that providing for you was enough. ”
“It wasn’t.”
“I know that now.” He met my eyes. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, or to move back in, or to pretend the last few weeks didn’t happen. I’m just asking for one date. A chance to start over. To do this right.”
The notebook was burning a hole in my bag. All those observations, all those details he’d noticed while sitting quietly in the corner. He was trying. Really trying.
But trying didn’t undo the damage.
“The papers are signed,” I said. “I signed them last week.”
Pain flickered across his face, but he didn’t look away. “I know. My mother delivered them to me at Sunday lunch.”
“Ugh, your mother. Then you know this is over.”
“I know you want it to be over. You have every right to walk away and never look at me again.” He took a breath. “I haven’t signed them.”
“What?”
“The papers. I didn’t sign them.” He pulled the envelope from inside his truck and held it up. “I told my mother, in front of my entire family, that I won’t.”
Searching his face, I looked for signs of manipulation, for the calculated charm I’d grown so used to. But all I saw was exhaustion and hope and something that looked terrifyingly like sincerity.
“What else did you tell them?”
“Everything.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “I was very specific about it even. I asked Annie to leave and never come back.” He paused. “Then I told all of them that anyone who doesn’t treat you like family is no longer part of mine.”
My throat tightened. “You said that?”
“I should have said it months ago. A year ago.” He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the flecks of blue in his gray eyes. “I chose them over you, Freya. Every time it mattered, I chose comfort and peace over protecting my wife. I will regret that for the rest of my life.”
“Rex…”
“Let me finish. Please.” He took another breath. “I’m not asking you to forget any of that. I’m asking for a chance to prove I can be different. One date. That’s all. If it goes badly, I’ll sign the papers and let you go. I promise.”
I should have said no. Every rational part of my brain was screaming at me to walk away, to protect myself, to stop letting this man back into my heart where he could hurt me again.
But the notebook was in my bag. And he’d told off his entire family. And he was standing here with nothing to offer except himself, asking for something he’d never asked for before.
A chance.
“One date,” I heard myself say. “No money thrown around or I’ll assume you’re buying me again. I want something normal.”
“Done.”
“And if it goes badly…”
“I sign the papers, I let you go, and I never bother you again.” His voice was steady, but I could see how much those words cost him. “I mean it, Freya. This is your choice. It’s always been your choice.”
I studied him for a long moment, looking for the catch. But maybe, just maybe, he was finally learning to let go of angles.
“Okay,” I said. “One date.”
His whole face changed. Not the charming smile I was used to, the one he deployed like a weapon in boardrooms and at family gatherings. Something softer. Like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.
“Thank you.” His voice was rough. “You won’t regret this.”
“I probably will.”
“Probably.” He opened his truck door, then stopped. “One more thing. What do you like on your burgers?”
I blinked at the unexpected question. “What?”
“Burgers. I’m thinking we go somewhere with good burgers. But I want to make sure I pick a place that has what you like.”
I’d been married to this man for a year. He’d never asked me what I liked on a burger.
“Bacon,” I said slowly. “Cheddar. Extra pickles. No onions.”
He pulled out his phone and typed something, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Bacon. Cheddar. Extra pickles. No onions. Got it.”
“Are you taking notes?”
“I’m taking a lot of notes these days.” He looked up with that new, soft smile. “I have a lot to learn.”
He climbed into his truck and started the engine. I watched him pull out of the parking lot, still trying to process what had just happened.
I had no idea what Rex Waller’s version of normal looked like. But I was apparently about to find out.