Chapter 12
Rain poured outside the little bookstore, but inside, time stood still.
Rachel’s cheek rested against Eric’s soaked shirt, her heart thudding as if waking up after years of sleep. She hadn’t expected to see him again—especially not like this, vulnerable, real, and begging for a second chance without saying the words.
Eric didn’t speak either. He held her like he was afraid she’d vanish again.
After a long silence, Rachel finally stepped back and looked up at him.
“You’re wet,” she said simply.
Eric gave a quiet laugh. “I didn’t want to wait for the storm to stop.”
She nodded slowly, her throat tight. “You came all this way. Why?”
He looked into her eyes. “To return something I took.”
Rachel’s brows furrowed. “What?”
“My heart,” he said. “You gave it to me once. And I crushed it. I don’t deserve another chance, Rachel. But I’m here anyway. Hoping… praying that maybe you’ll let me earn back what I destroyed.”
Rachel didn’t answer immediately. She turned away and walked to the counter, grabbing a towel from under it. She tossed it to him without a word.
Eric caught it and smiled faintly.
“Dry off,” she murmured, her back still to him. “You’re dripping all over my floor.”
He rubbed his hair with the towel, watching her move around the shop with quiet grace. She was different now. Stronger. Calmer. Like the storm had passed through her and left something clearer behind.
“I live here now,” she said finally, her voice soft but firm. “It’s quiet. People don’t know me. I like it that way.”
“I know,” he replied. “And I’m not here to ruin that.”
“Then why are you here, really?”
Eric hesitated, then set the towel down and stepped closer.
“I wake up every day wondering where you are. I go to sleep every night hoping you’re safe. I built my whole life on rage, on lies I thought were truth. But when the noise stopped, when it all fell apart… all I wanted was to hear your voice again.”
Rachel’s eyes glistened, but she blinked away the tears.
“You didn’t believe me when I needed you most.”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “And I hate myself for it. If I could go back—”
“You can’t,” she interrupted, voice sharper than before. “You can’t undo the prison. The humiliation. The way I begged just to be heard.”
Eric lowered his head. “You’re right.”
The silence between them thickened.
Rachel turned to face him. “I don’t hate you anymore,” she said. “But I don’t know if I can love you again either.”
Eric nodded. “Then let me stay, not as someone you need to love… but someone who won’t stop trying to deserve it.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then sighed.
“There’s a spare room upstairs,” she said. “It’s small. And the bed creaks.”
His eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” she added quickly. “It’s not forgiveness. It’s… a beginning. That’s all.”
Eric smiled faintly. “A beginning is more than I ever hoped for.”
Rachel gave a soft sigh and walked past him, grabbing the ‘Closed’ sign and flipping it.
“Lock the door,” she said, heading for the stairs.
Eric turned slowly, hands shaking as he reached for the door, locking it gently behind him.
And for the first time in years, the world didn’t feel like hell anymore.
It felt like hope.