Page 66 of Once Upon A Second Chance
She leans into me, her forehead resting lightly against mine. “Always.”
We sit like that until the cocoa’s cold, and the world feels a little softer around the edges again.
Chapter Fourteen
Penny
I knew it was coming.
You can feel judgment in a small town the way you feel humidity in the air—heavy, sticky, impossible to shake.
It clings to you, even when people smile like everything’s fine.
Like they don’t believe the things they said behind their hands.
This week, it’s been a master class in silent condemnation.
Lingering glances at the clinic. Quiet when I enter the break room. Simmons suddenly needing "clarity" on every decision Richard makes. Like being cautious is the same as being spineless.
But today? Today, someone finally says the thing out loud.
It happens at the farmer’s market of all places—on a Saturday morning with sun filtering through wind chimes and the scent of kettle corn in the air. I’m halfway to the bakery booth when she appears.
Mrs. Audrey Wallace.
The queen of the PTA. Church choir leader. A woman who once called me “a beacon of grace under pressure” when I helped stabilize her grandson during a nosebleed at soccer practice.
Today she has a tote bag over one shoulder and a tight-lipped expression that’s somewhere between pity and self-righteous concern.
“Penny,” she says, stepping into my path with that syrupy voice that’s always two shades too sweet. “Do you have a minute?”
I smile and pause. “Morning, Audrey.”
She pulls something from her bag—a manila envelope, thick with printed pages and neatly labeled tabs.
“I wasn’t sure how to approach this,” she says, her voice lowering like we’re discussing terminal illness or unwed pregnancy, “but… I just want you to know that you’renot alone.”
I stare at the envelope. “What do you mean? What’s that?”
“Resources. For women who’ve experienced… trauma. Abuse. There’s a wonderful shelter in Franklin that takes anonymous referrals. And some legal contacts, if you ever feel ready to take that step.”
The silence around us deepens.
I blink once.
Twice.
“Excuse me?” I say, voice flat.
“I know it’s hard to admit when someone we care about has hurt us. Especially someone as… charismatic as Dr. Hogan. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not the only woman this town who has had this type of experience.”
For a second, I forget how to breathe.
“I’m not being abused,” I say. Slowly. Clearly. “Richard didn’t do what she’s saying he did.”
Audrey gives me that look—the one I’ve seen a hundred times. Like I’m too close to the flames to know I’m burning.
“It’s common,” she says. “Denial. But when you’re ready—”
