Betty’s POV
Stacey meant well, but this dinner was a mistake.
The air between Marcus and me was thick with tension, suffocating and impossible to ignore. Every glance, every unspoken word hung between us like a weight. I could still remember the way he’d looked at me at the farmhouse—like I was something he couldn’t stand to see.
“So?” Stacey prompted, her voice overly bright as she looked between us. “Anyone want to start?”
Marcus shrugged, his gaze fixed on his drink. “Not much to say.”
I snapped before I could stop myself. “Seriously? You show up, act like nothing’s happened, and then claim there’s nothing to say?”
His head lifted slowly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a sharpness that made my chest tighten. “What do you want me to say, Betty?” he asked, his tone low but cutting. “That I hate seeing you with him? That I can’t stand the fact that I missed my chance? Would that make you feel better?”
The words hit like a punch, leaving the table in stunned silence. Even Stacey’s eyes widened slightly, her carefully constructed composure faltering for a moment.
My heart pounded, anger and something far more vulnerable surging in equal measure. “It’s not about making me feel better,” I said, my voice shaking as I fought to keep it steady. “It’s about being honest for once in your life.”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “You want honesty? Fine. I screwed up, Betty. I’ll own that. But don’t stand there and pretend like you didn’t make your choice. You didn’t just pick Brent—you chose to erase me completely.”
His words hit harder than I’d expected, a sharp sting that I wasn’t prepared for. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The truth in his words left me raw, my emotions too tangled to make sense of.
Stacey cleared her throat, her voice hesitant as she tried to diffuse the moment. “Okay, maybe this was a bad idea—”
“No,” Marcus said, standing abruptly and cutting her off. He tossed a few bills onto the table and grabbed his jacket, his movements sharp and final. “This was perfect. Thanks for the invite, Stace.”
Before either of us could say anything, he turned and walked out, his steps quick and deliberate as he disappeared through the café’s door.
I stared after him, my chest tight and my thoughts spinning. The bitterness in his voice echoed in my mind, along with the truth of what he’d said. Somewhere along the way, we’d both made choices that led us here, to this mess of unspoken feelings and unresolved tensions.
Stacey sighed, breaking the silence. “Well,” she said softly, “that didn’t go how I planned.”
I didn’t respond, my gaze still fixed on the door Marcus had just walked through. I wasn’t sure if I was angry, heartbroken, or both. All I knew was that the cracks in whatever had been between us felt too deep to mend.