Chapter 17
SADIE
The first drops of rain began just before noon, tapping lightly against the windows of the museum, the steady sound growing louder as the sky darkened, thick clouds blotting out the weak summer sun.
The forecast had called for light rain, just a sprinkle, but the meteorologists were wrong.
The rain steadily increased throughout the afternoon until it seemed to come down in a deluge.
I had been inside, focusing on the details of the final inspection report, my mind half in the world of engines and paperwork, half still grappling with the emotional turbulence that came from working so closely with Patrick again.
It was impossible to ignore how things were different between us since that day in the restoration bay.
The distance I had so desperately tried to keep was fading, but there was still a cautious space, an invisible barrier neither of us had fully crossed.
By the time I finished my report and stretched in my office chair, the rain was hammering against the walls.
Water pooled on the museum’s front steps and spilled in steady streams onto the tarmac, making the outdoor areas look like rivers in the making.
The gloominess of the day matched my mood in a way that felt strangely right.
The sound was loud but rhythmic, a constant backdrop to the thoughts racing through my head.
A knock on the door interrupted me, the sound nearly swallowed by the pounding rain on the museum’s corrugated metal roof.
The cadence was familiar and I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
Still, I turned as the door swung open, not entirely surprised when Patrick stepped into view.
He stood framed in the doorway, droplets glistening in his dark hair like scattered diamonds, the sleeves of his blue work shirt rolled to his elbows revealing his expensive watch beside the grease staining his forearms.
“Looks like it’s pouring out there,” he said, glancing behind him at the rain, his expression unusually soft.
There was something almost vulnerable about him when he stood there like that, rain droplets clinging to his jacket and hair, a man usually so in control, now caught in nature’s grasp like anyone else.
He had shed some of his corporate armor, the confident swagger he carried in boardrooms was replaced by an uncertainty I hadn’t seen in a while.
“Yeah, I noticed.” I gave him a tight smile, but it was forced, the kind that didn’t reach my eyes. I didn’t feel like pretending that things were completely back to normal, not after everything we’d gone through.
We stood there in awkward silence, listening to the rain beat against the glass, filling the space between us like an unspoken truth neither of us dared touch.
It wasn’t a hostile silence, but it was heavy with the history between us.
I had forgiven him, in part, for his secrecy about working on the Trimotor, but forgiveness and trust were different things, and trust was still fragile between us.
Patrick cleared his throat. “Do you want to get out of the office? Take a walk maybe?”
I almost laughed at the absurdity. The rain was relentless, soaking the parking lot, creating little waterfalls that cascaded over every edge of the building’s architecture. “A walk in this?”
“I wasn’t thinking far.” His smile was sheepish, more like the old Patrick than the version of him I had been dealing with these last weeks. There was a trace of humor, but the awkwardness was palpable.
“Sure,” I said, mostly because I needed air, even if the air came wrapped in a downpour. “I could use a break anyway. Just don’t blame me if we drown.”
I grabbed my jacket from the back of the door, pulling it on while he watched me, the gesture more out of habit than necessity.
I wasn’t ready to spend too much time alone with him outside of work, even with the walls slowly coming down.
We walked out of the building and into the storm, the cold water hitting me like a shock to my senses.
It was colder than it looked. The sky was almost black despite it being mid-afternoon, a storm cloud that didn’t want to release us from its grip anytime soon.
“You ever seen rain like this before in July?” he asked as we made our way toward the overhang outside the main hangar, seeking some shelter from the deluge.
I shook my head, the rain already soaking through the collar of my jacket, my hair clinging to my neck. “No, but Seattle weather isn’t exactly predictable.”
We huddled beneath the awning, the overhang only giving us some respite from the weather.
There was a dryness in my bones despite the wetness in the air.
I crossed my arms against my chest, trying to retain some warmth as the water hammered down just a few feet away.
I could feel Patrick’s eyes on me, the tension rising with the rain’s intensity.
“You know, we could wait it out inside,” he offered gently, but I shook my head.
“I don’t mind.” The rain was something to focus on, a distraction that wasn’t about the mess of our personal lives or the complicated dance of trust we were attempting.
I didn’t want to go back inside just yet, not when I finally had a moment where the world was simple, even if the world was trying to drown us.
“All right,” he said after a pause, and then we were standing there together, letting the rain wash everything else away for the moment.
It was only after several long minutes of silence that I felt the urge to break it, my thoughts spiraling to the last conversation we had before everything went wrong, the one that still echoed between us like a lingering ghost. The press conference where our professional world had collided with our personal lives, where I had felt so sidelined, so invisible, that I’d questioned everything I thought we had built together.
“I’m still mad about what happened,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them, the rain suddenly not enough to distract me.
He looked over at me, his expression unreadable, though his eyes were clear in the dim light. “I know,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. “I don’t blame you.”
It was an acknowledgment I hadn’t realized I needed, but hearing him say it eased some of the tension that had knotted inside me for weeks.
“I should’ve handled things better, too,” I added, more to myself than him.
I wasn’t just a victim in this situation.
I’d let my pride and hurt distance me more than I had ever meant to. It hadn’t been entirely fair to him.
Patrick turned fully toward me then, raindrops still clinging to his lashes, the sincerity in his expression almost enough to break through my defenses.
“I hurt you,” he said, the words raw. “And I did it in the worst possible way. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, and I think...
I think I’m finally understanding why it hurt so much.
I took for granted what you’ve always given.
Your space, your strength, your independence.
And I didn’t account for a family dynamic that I never understood.
I guess I told myself that whatever had happened before between the two of you must have been in the past for you to suggest her for a job. ”
He stopped there, his jaw clenching as if holding back more words, and I felt a surge of unexpected empathy for him.
I was so used to seeing him in control, so accustomed to the CEO Patrick, that it was hard to reconcile him standing in the rain, soaked and vulnerable, admitting his flaws without the shield of authority to protect him.
I exhaled slowly, trying to find the right thing to say, but there weren’t really any right words. Not yet. “It’s not easy to talk about,” I said instead, the understatement hanging between us like an anchor.
“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his eyes searching mine. “But it’s time we start trying. I don’t want to lose you again, Sadie.”
It was the most direct he had been in a while, the most honest, and it tugged at something inside me that I thought had been locked away.
I wanted to believe him, to let the words heal what had been broken, but there was too much history to make it that simple.
Still, I found myself wanting to reach out, to close the gap between us in more than just words.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I whispered, not to shut him down but to slow us down before we could run into more mistakes. “But... I’m trying, Patrick.”
He nodded, and I saw a flicker of something like relief pass through him before he stepped back just enough to give us both space, the tension still there but shifting into something more hopeful.
The rain hadn’t let up, but it felt lighter now, less like a storm and more like a cleansing, something that was washing away the grime of the past and leaving the possibility of something new in its place.
“I’m grateful,” he said, his voice almost lost to the sound of the storm. “For the chance.”
I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I stepped a little closer, letting the cold and the wet fade into the background as I allowed myself to feel his presence, not as a husband or a CEO, but just as Patrick.
We stood there together for what felt like an eternity, neither of us speaking, but neither of us wanting to leave just yet.
For the first time in a long while, I could finally see a future where maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to talk about it all without breaking apart.
The rain kept falling, but the storm inside me had begun to quiet.
Maybe it wasn’t over, but for once, it didn’t feel like the end anymore.
There was something about the way Patrick looked at me then, standing there in the middle of that downpour, that made me realize we were going to get there eventually, step by drenched step.