Page 57 of Once Upon A Second Chance
“Well?” I ask, waving a hand. “Repent, betray, insult, or leave. Pick one.”
That gets a flicker from him. Something like guilt—or the very best imitation of it money can buy.
“I shouldn’t have testified against you,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow. “No shit.”
Andrew sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I didn’t know what Rebecca was trying to pull back then. I thought the hospital was just covering its ass. I didn’t realize I was playing right intoher narrative.”
“You’re a grown man, Andrew. Not a houseplant. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
He winces. “Okay. I guess I deserved that.”
I lean back, arms crossed. “What is this, exactly? Your apology tour? Trying to absolve yourself so you can sleep at night while she burns down everything I care about?”
“She’s not—” He stops himself. Starts again. “She’s not as in control as you think.”
I laugh, dry and sharp. “That’s rich coming from the guy who moved in before the ink on the divorce was dry.”
He flinches. Just a bit.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I add. “I’m not jealous. You two deserve each other.”
His jaw tightens. “You don’t know what she’s like now.”
“Oh, I know exactly what she’s like. I just don’t care anymore. But here’s the thing—she’s here. In this town. Where I now plan to live. Stirring up lawsuits, rumors, and ghosts I’ve alreadyburied.”
I stand, slowly and deliberately, walking toward him until we’re eye to eye.
“So let me be clear, Keller. You and your new girlfriend stay the hell out of my business. That includes the clinic, the town, and especially Penny.”
Andrew’s mouth opens, but I’m not finished.
“If you’ve got a shred of decency left, convince her to pack it up and head back to whatever penthouse you two call home. If not—then leave her. Because this small-town circus? She won’t win it. Not here.”
There’s a pause.
Then he scoffs, but the edge is gone from it.
“You really think you’ve changed? Still sound like the same self-righteous prick to me, Richard.”
I shrug. “Better than being a coward who sold out his friend for a footnote in someone else’s power play.”
That hits.
He doesn’t show it much—but I see the twitch in his jaw. The flicker behind his eyes.
Abeat of silence.
Then: “You always were good at making people feel like shit.”
I smile, all teeth. “Only the ones who deserve it.”
Andrew turns toward the door. Hesitates. “You really think she’ll walk away just because I ask?”
“No,” I say. “But if you still mean anything to her, you might be the only one who can make her stop before she nukes the whole county.”
He leaves without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.
