Page 75 of Surrender
“You were wrong about what, exactly?”
Sophie stared at her tea. Then said, carefully, “About you. About your intentions. About what you meant to Keefe. I thought I was protecting him, but I wasn’t. I was just... controlling things and I had no right to.”
The room went quiet.
“Why now?” Gwen asked. “Why not a week ago? Or when I was still there?”
“Because back then I still thought I was right,” Sophie said. “Now I know I was just scared.”
That landed. Gwen set her mug down and crossed her arms.
“You hurt him. Your own brother,” she said. Not cruelly. Just plainly.
Sophie nodded slowly. “He’s walking around like someone cut out his heart. I see it. I hate it. And I can’t fix it. But I’m hoping you might be able to.”
Gwen’s jaw clenched. “And what, you want me to just jump in the car and come back with you and act like everything is peachy keen? Yes, that will be great craic.”
“No.” Sophie met her eyes. “I want you to choose to come back. Because you still love him. Because he still loves you. And because I was wrong.”
Silence.
Then Gwen asked, “Did Keefe put you up to this?”
Sophie snorted. “No. He doesn’t even know I’m here. He’d strangle me if he found out.”
Gwen cracked the barest smile.
Sophie took a chance, stepping toward the door.
“Listen, I’ll be downstairs for ten minutes. If you want a ride... I’ve got an empty seat and a brother who hasn’t smiled in days.” She paused. “If not... I’ll leave you be. I just wanted to apologize.”
Gwen could see that Sophie was genuine. “Where are you taking me?”
“Where you belong: home with my brother, of course. Where else?”
“I don’t know. The river to see if I float upstream?”
Sophie grinned and snorted then opened the door.
“Sophie?”
She turned.
“Thank you.” Gwen’s voice was soft, but sincere. “That couldn’t have been easy for you.”
Sophie gave a small smile. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still much better at yelling.”
Chapter 23
Sophie had managed to clear out every last customer. No easy feat on a Friday night, but desperation made her persuasive. Or terrifying. Either way, it had worked. The last straggler was nursing a pint and a half-eaten burger and fries like he was settling in for the night. Not on her watch.
“Time to go. We’re closed now!” she snapped, grabbing his plate before he could protest.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with that?—”
She dumped the rest of his burger and fries into a takeout container, marched to the door, and flung it open. “Your table’s waiting. Get it while it’s hot!” She dropped the box onto the picnic table outside and waved him out with a forced smile.
The second his foot crossed the threshold, she slammed the door and locked it behind him. Her shoulders squared.
