Meredith smiled and took a sip of the coffee, shrugging. “Well, you’ve always had a tendency to be overly self-sacrificing. A martyr might have been more appropriate.”
Okay, this time Meredith found herself laughing as Allie watched, taking another moment to join her.
Darcy stood at the door, her mouth ajar. “What universe have I just walked into?”
Allie jumped from her chair and wrapped her arms around Darcy. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re here and safe.” She brushed her hand down Darcy’s hair as she studied her. “You look a whole heck of a lot better than your mother. When I saw her face I nearly screamed.”
“Very funny,” Meredith shot back. “It’s not that bad.” Okay, it was actually kind of bad, with purple bruises under her cheek and a swollen eye and cracked mouth. But she wasn’t planning on posing for any portraits, so it would be fin
e.
Allie put her arm around Darcy’s shoulder and guided her to an empty seat. She grabbed the other cup and filled it up for Darcy.
“Have you spoken to Bryce?” Allie asked.
Meredith froze. They hadn’t discussed Bryce or his father yet, but Darcy was aware that Peter Bauer had been the man behind it all. Meredith hadn’t decided yet how she felt about Bryce, but she would admit the kid had seemed really devastated by Darcy’s kidnapping. Learning it was your own dad who’d been responsible couldn’t be easy.
Darcy turned shy, though, and stared at her coffee. “Not yet.” She cast a nervous look Meredith’s way.
“It’s okay, Darce. I don’t want to have any secrets between us. And I’m sorry that you thought you had to hide the truth from me in the first place. I…like the kid.” She hadn’t exactly choked on the words, but nearly.
Darcy smiled now. “We’ll keep working on that. I might call him. Later. For now, I just want to spend time with my mom.”
Meredith almost dropped her mug. But she met Allie’s gaze and saw the smile in her eyes.
So maybe Saint Allie wasn’t so bad after all.
The doorbell rang again, and she rose to get it. Who now? Maybe it was Claire wanting to be bosom buddies or something. Right.
As she drew nearer the door, though, her heart began to pound, her pulse quickening. Because the figure at the door was large. Hulking. Not female. And familiar.
She sucked in a deep breath and smoothed her hands absentmindedly down her dress and then her hair. It was a mess. And dear God, her face. But he’d seen it already, so he shouldn’t gasp in horror.
Slowly, she creaked open the door, his face both welcome and terrifying. “Travis.”
He nodded and looked around, rubbing the back of his head. “Do you have a minute?”
That didn’t sound good. Not good at all. But she waved him in, leading him to the small front room. There was a set of French doors, but from the sounds of laugher from the kitchen, she was certain their conversation would be private.
She sat down, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. “Are you worried about your payment? My father or his lawyers will probably arrange that the same way they contacted you. But if not, I’m happy to pay.”
He didn’t sit, just stood over her. And blinked. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. And no, I’m not here about payment.”
God. Why had she jumped to that conclusion? Maybe because she couldn’t think of any other reason he’d be here. He’d made it clear before what he thought about her. That she’d never change.
“Why are you here then?”
“I just had a conversation with my sister. She sends her best, actually. In all seriousness,” he added, because he’d probably seen the doubt on her face. “We talked about some stuff. About our parents. About me. About you. She made me face a few truths. And I know that I’m not completely reasonable when it comes to believing that people can change, but I realize that you had tried to explain what happened the other night and I wouldn’t give you a chance.”
“You were right not to. There was no excuse. I made the choice in that moment not to be the bigger person.” More softly, she added, “You have to know I would never have followed through with that threat. Ever.”
He nodded, his green eyes so clear as he studied her. “I know. And I also recognize that you did pull back the claws…eventually. Which for you was…progress.”
She raised her brows, a move that caused her to wince against the pain. He thought she was making progress?
“That day back in high school,” he continued, “when you were crying in the locker room? It was the first time I’d seen you do anything so human.”
She nodded. Remembering. “I hated you in that moment. Hated that you’d seen me so vulnerable. I look back now and don’t know why it even bothered me so much—my father not showing up for the crowning of the homecoming court. It all seems silly.”