Chapter Sixteen

“YOU CAN’T USE THE NAMES of the men Graciella mentioned.” Kate shifted in the Adirondack chair on Chris’ deck so she could face him. “You don’t have proof.”

They had been debating including that part of her interview in the film for almost half an hour. Chris pounded his hand on the arm of his chair. “We have her statement.”

“It’s her word against theirs.” Kate kept her voice calm, rational. “This is what you’re paying me to do—protect the film and your company from legal liabilities.” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to agree. He refused.

“But, Kate, it’s important.”

“It’s a liability. Do you want to get sued?”

They had been working on editing the footage from the Manna Center all day. Once Chris had finished interviewing Jonathan and Graciella, they drove straight back to his house. Anticipation and excitement had captivated him, and Kate could barely keep up with him as he sped along the freeway. That had been seven hours ago. Seven hours of staring at a computer screen watching the footage over and over again. Kate’s eyes were exhausted and dry, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. There was something powerful about the work they were doing. An indescribable tremor rippled in the air, and she wanted to be a part of it.

They had moved from his living room to the back deck when dinner had been delivered. Empty Thai food containers littered the small table between the chairs as the sun began to set over the ocean.

Chris narrowed his eyes at her, and she braced for another argument. She may not know much about cameras and editing, but she knew the law. Graciella had told them stories of the men she met during her time with the traffickers. Names, professions, descriptions. Chris wanted to use it all. He wanted to tell the stories, to drag all the secrets and all the lies into the light. He was willing to risk everything, but she wouldn’t let him throw it all away. Not when she could protect him.

“Fine.” Chris said, and it was the closest thing to a pout she had ever seen on him. “But it’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Kate countered.

Chris scrolled through the footage he had uploaded to his laptop. He marked certain spots in the film, using tick marks and time stamps, scratching notes on the paper he kept by his side. He moved sections of the footage, highlighting some and cutting it, then stitching together the gaps in precise detail.

“Between the stories these girls are sharing and your lawsuit rules, we might not even need to use the list of names from the club.” Chris rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I like keeping the focus on the women, telling their stories.”

Kate fidgeted before she could stop herself. Taking a deep breath, she forced her body to be still. “Sure,” she nodded, guilt churning with the curry in her stomach until she thought she might be sick. Chris deserved better.

That realization was worse than the guilt. She didn’t deserve him. The mistakes she’d made, the foolish things she’d done—they disqualified her from a relationship with Chris. She would never measure up, never be good enough, never be worthy of his love. She should walk away now. She had what she needed. That list was the only reason she signed on to this project. She should quit and stop seeing him. She should leave before he discovered the truth. Chris deserved a chance to be happy, and that was one thing she could never do. She could never make him happy. And yet . . .

She stayed. Every day, she stayed.

She glanced at Chris, at the passion on his face, the strength of his heart. He was so committed, so determined to make a difference. She wanted to be there for it. She wanted to be there for him.

He cued up a new version of the interview and pushed the empty dinner boxes out of the way, so he could set the computer on the table in front of them. Kate thought the interview would be less powerful, less emotional than it had been when she watched it in person. Instead, it was even more gripping than she remembered. Chris had framed Graciella beautifully—the way the light rested on her, the slightly off-center position of the camera—it made her look young, but also determined. She faced the camera with unflinching honesty, and she spoke without reservation. It was raw and vulnerable, and it felt even more intimate than it had that morning.

Chris had used the camera to make the interview personal. It was as if Graciella was talking right to her, reaching through the screen and pleading with Kate to hear, to see, to know what she had endured. Even though she knew the story, had heard it directly from Graciella, seeing it on film touched a chord in her heart, and the cry that resulted couldn’t be undone.

When the footage ended, Chris shifted in his chair to look at her. “So,” he asked, “What do you think?”

Kate struggled for the right word. “It’s . . . amazing.”

“Really?”

She wanted to laugh at the boyish excitement in his voice. She wondered how he could even ask that. How could he not see what he had created? The scene was incredible. “Yes, really. It’s powerful and beautiful and . . . ” She waved her hands at her face. “I knew what was coming, and you still made me cry.”

Chris leapt to his feet with a whoop of victory. He lifted his hand for a high-five and when she smacked his hand, his clasped her fingers and pulled her out of the chair and into his arms. Electricity sizzled on her skin as she leaned into him. She rested against his chest and breathed in the spice of his aftershave and the salty breeze that clung to his hair. Warmth washed over her as he wrapped his arms around her. He was strong and steady, and the beat of his heart drummed beneath her own. She made no move to pull away. She could stand there in his arms and let the minutes tick past and never miss them.

Her phone buzzed on the glass table, and she blinked away the fog of the moment, the daze of his arms.

Chris stepped back, and she missed him immediately. The empty air between them was cold and lonely, but she didn’t trust herself to reach for him again. She was already too affected by him. Distance was what she needed.

She glanced at the text message on her phone.

“Are you late for a big date?” Chris asked.

“What? No.” She picked up her phone. “I haven’t been on a date in months.”

“Really? What exactly have we been doing then?” He bent to collect the discarded Thai food boxes, and she was sure she heard hurt in his simple response.

“Chris, I didn’t mean us. This thing we have—it’s complicated. It’s—” Her phone buzzed again.

“It’s fine.” He took the boxes into the house, and Kate knew it was anything but fine.

Why did she always mess things up? Why was life so complicated?

She followed him into the kitchen, anxious to explain, but not knowing why she should. “The text is from Noah. He’s asking about the wedding.”

With less than three months before Hannah and Noah’s wedding, the preparations were in full swing. Kate had tried to excuse herself as much as possible when Lily and Hannah got together. After all, Hannah had been the one who helped Lily plan her wedding. Kate had stayed in Boston until the last possible second, stalling even on her best friend’s wedding because of the memories she didn’t want to face. It was only right that she let Hannah and Lily share this wedding, too. They had a bond Kate wasn’t a part of, and even though it hurt, she accepted it because she had brought it on herself.

Chris washed his hands and dried them on a kitchen towel. If he was relieved by her admission, he didn’t show it. “When are you planning to head up north?” The wedding was in Hannah’s hometown, and the whole Shaw family was going to be there.

Kate hesitated. She hadn’t planned on going to the wedding. She figured she was the last person Hannah would want there. Truthfully, she’d been shocked when Hannah had given her the invitation. If the situation had been reversed—if Hannah had tried to sabotage her relationship—Kate probably never would have spoken to her again, let alone invited her to the very wedding she nearly destroyed. She would have held a grudge and enjoyed every minute of it.

She’d almost ruined everything for Hannah and Noah. Kate may have thought she was being protective, but really, she had been jealous. Jealous that Hannah was going to get to be a part of the Shaw family, that Hannah was Lily’s friend, and that she’d been there when Kate hadn’t. She’d been petty and judgmental, and she hated herself for it. She should have told them sooner that she wouldn’t be there, but she could never find the right way to say it. Lily was going to be disappointed in her. And Noah . . .

Noah had been a good friend to her. He hadn’t brought up any of the things she’d said about Hannah, and he didn’t treat her any differently now than he had before she made a stupid scene with him; but still, she didn’t know if she could face them on their wedding day. Sitting in the church, watching them say their vows, knowing that she had nearly destroyed it—the guilt would eat her alive. They may act like everything was fine, but how could either of them forgive her for what she’d done?

Chris leaned against the dishwasher and crossed his arms over his chest. “The initial filming will be done, and we’ll be on to scoring, final edits, and all that. It’s going to be busy, but I was thinking of driving up the day before and heading back home the day after the wedding. You can catch a ride with me.” He looked at her, and warmth spread down her back and all the way to her toes. “If you want.”

Kate squeezed her fingers together, her nervous habit kicking in. “No. That’s okay.”

“Oh.” Chris dropped his head and stared at the floor.

Kate crossed her arms, irritated that she had to explain herself. This wasn’t any of his business, anyway. What did it matter to him if she stayed home and ate ice cream to avoid thinking about Noah and Hannah getting married and all of her closest friends being there without her? “I’m not going to the wedding.” There. She said it.

Heavy silence descended on the room. He raised his eyes and looked at her. His intense gaze made her uncomfortable, like he was seeing more than she wanted him to. “What do you mean, you aren’t going?”

She straightened her shoulders, feigning a confidence she didn’t feel, and lifted her chin. Lesson one she had learned in law school, if you didn’t have a good answer, use bravado to win the case. Evidence was best, but style worked, too. She’d made her decision, and she would have to live with it, but she didn’t see why she had to justify it to him. “I haven’t been a very good friend to Hannah. I wasn’t exactly nice to her when I came back to LA for Lily’s wedding, and I said some stupid stuff to Noah. I highly doubt they want me there on their special day.”

Chris crossed his ankles as they faced off across the kitchen. “If they didn’t want you there, they wouldn’t have invited you.”

She ran her hands through her hair. He didn’t get it. Of course, Chris—Mr. Perfect, Mr. Mature, Mr. Always Does the Right Thing—wouldn’t understand. “Look, I would feel awful if I went. I messed up, and I don’t deserve to be there.”

Chris walked to where she stood and plucked her phone from her hand. “People mess up, Kate. It happens. We forgive each other. Hannah and Noah want you there. The only person holding on to the past is you.”

She wanted to argue with him, but she didn’t have a good response. Yes, she was holding on to the past because that’s where her mistake was. She had to carry it around with her. She didn’t expect anyone else to forget what she’d done. What right did she have to act like it didn’t matter? Actions had consequences; that was a simple law of life. There weren’t any takebacks or do-overs.

“Kate.” He held her phone up and wiggled it in front of her face. “You can either text Noah and tell him you’re getting a ride up north with me, or I can call Lily and tell her you’re planning on skipping her brother’s wedding. It’s up to you.”

Irritation rose within her. He was making this difficult. And yet, her heart skipped and tripped when she thought she might actually be welcome at the wedding. What if Hannah really had forgiven her? What if she could move on from one of the biggest mistakes of her life? Was it possible to let go of the past? To start over?

“You’re not playing fair,” she said.

He laughed. “I wasn’t trying to be fair.” He took her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Noah and Hannah are your friends. They care about you, and they want you to be there with them. Don’t let guilt rob you of that.”

She had reasons for not going. She had reasons for keeping herself closed off, but the blue of his eyes and the feel of his hand made her forget what those reasons were. She had spent years keeping herself insulated, protected from the pain and betrayal of life. The tougher she was, the stronger she was, the less anyone could hurt her. She was fine on her own. She liked being independent and not needing anyone. Was it lonely? Sure, but lonely was better than broken.

Chris waited, his hand holding hers. He was the voice that kept calling her back from the tiny cave she’d built for herself. He was the one who kept reaching out for her, the one who made certain she wasn’t alone. Everyone else would have let her off the hook and let her slide back into the shadows, but not Chris. He held her hand like he didn’t plan on letting go, and for the first time in years, she didn’t want to be alone.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll go.” Chris smiled, and she itched to trace the curve of his lips, to touch the stubble on his face, to feel the line of his jaw. “But you’re driving.”

A grin spread across his lips. “It’s a date.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not.”