I marched toward the back of the store and knocked on the partially opened door.
“Come in.”
When I walked in, Ryder sat leaned back in his chair like he was expecting me. I looked around and saw the monitor on the wall in the corner. He’d known I was here before I walked in the office door. Somehow, I had missed that the last time I was here with King.
Probably because you were glaring at Ryder the whole time.
He had seen me enter the store and talk to Ellie. I placed the extra cup I held on the desk and slid it forward.
“Got you a coffee. Audrey said it was your usual.”
“Thanks,” he said, without touching the cup. “Why are you here?”
Ok, let’s get right to it.
“I need to talk to you. I’ve been seeing Haizley for the last month. Trying to work through my grief.”
His eyebrows rose subtly, but I saw the surprise in his eyes.
“I wanted to apologize for the things I said at the hospital.” I stared at my feet.
“Sit down, Cash.”
I slumped into the chair in front of his desk and told myself once again that I could fucking do this.
“I’m sorry. For the hospital. For the last five fucking years.”
“Why now?” he asked, and my eyes snapped to his. The doubt I saw on his face pissed me off.
Here I was trying to fucking apologize, and he was asking about an ulterior motive.
“I’ve been working with Haizley. She’s been helping me process.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re here?”
I looked at the smug bastard, and the blank expression on his face told me he already knew.
“Who fucking told you?”
“It doesn’t matter who told me.Youshould have fucking told me!”
“That’s why I’m here now, goddammit!” I shouted, jumping out of the chair.
“It’s been three fucking months! You can move on that fucking quick? Did she even mean anything to you?”
“Fuck you, Ryder!”
“Both of you, knock it off,” Ellie hissed. “We have customers, and they can hear you screaming at each other. Are you trying to set off the rumor mill? Did you not have enough people talking about you?”
Before either of us could reply, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
“Here,” I said, digging into my pocket and throwing Rachel’s letter on the desk. “Read this.”
“What is it?” He reached for the letter and held it in his hands, staring at it like it might bite him.
“Matlock gave it to me the night Rachel died.” I slumped back into the chair and let my head fall back. Letting Ryder read that letter was opening myself up for more shit from him. But he needed to see what Rachel wrote about me moving on. He would never believe it from me.
“What the fuck is she talking about?”
