Chapter 25 Chapter 25: Why was I…?
Catherine’s P.O.V
I didn’t have a real answer for Hunter, and the worst part was that he could see it on my face before I even opened my mouth. The question hung between us, quiet but heavy, and I hated that I was just standing there, holding a list that felt like an accusation.
Why was I getting things for my surrogate? Why was she suddenly in our house, moving through rooms like she had always belonged there? Why was she drinking coffee from my favorite mug? And why, why did my husband think it was fine to casually hand me a list like it wouldn’t split something open inside me?
I swallowed, tried to say something sensible, something composed, but all that came out was.
“I don’t know,” and even to my own ears it sounded thin, unconvincing. “I really don’t know,” I added, softer, because the truth was I was just as confused as he was, maybe more.
Hunter studied me for a second, his jaw tight, his eyes too gentle for how sharp everything felt inside me.
“You don’t know?” he repeated, not accusing, just trying to understand. I shook my head, gripping the paper harder than necessary.
“She’s just… there,” I said, all of it coming out in a rush of incoherent jumble. “In our house. Using our kitchen. And he just…” I stopped, my throat closing. “He just handed me this like it was nothing.” I didn’t finish the sentence, but Hunter nodded anyway, like he already knew where it ended.
He reached out, took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, and I felt the swell of emotion I’d been holding back threaten to spill.
“Come with me,” he said suddenly.
I blinked. “What?”
“Come with me,” he repeated, already turning slightly, like he expected me to follow.
“Hunter, where are you taking me?” I asked, startled, my heart jumping for reasons I couldn’t name.
“Just…” he squeezed my hand, grounding me, “just follow me, okay?”
I hesitated for half a second, then nodded, because standing there was unbearable and whatever came next couldn’t be worse than this moment. He led me across the street to the small café opposite the store, the bell above the door chiming as we stepped inside.
We didn’t talk while we ordered; Hunter asked for a steaming coffee for me and a slice of chocolate cake, didn’t even look at me to confirm, just knew. I watched him do it, watched the easy certainty of his movements, and something in my chest tightened again. We took a corner table, quiet and slightly tucked away, and I folded my hands in my lap like I didn’t know what to do with them.
When the waitress set the coffee down in front of me, the steam curled up toward my face, warm and comforting in a way that made my eyes sting. She placed the cake between us and smiled politely before leaving. Hunter waited until she was gone before he spoke.
“You look like you’re about to disappear,” he said gently.
“So… why did you bring me here, Hunter?” I didn’t try to soften it.
“You literally dragged me out of the mall without explaining anything.”
He shrugged, resting his chin on his palm, and said, “Because I could tell you had a lot on your mind.”
I snorted quietly. “That’s your big reason?”
He nodded, completely serious, and added, “Yeah. And because unprocessed anger isn’t good for the body.”
I raised a brow. “You’re a therapist now?”
He laughed. “No, but I know what it looks like when someone’s carrying too much and pretending they’re fine.”
I looked away and he continued, lighter now, “So I figured cake might help.”
I turned back to him. “Cake,” he repeated confidently. “I’m pretty sure cake fixes almost everything.”
“Everything?”
“Okay, maybe not everything,” he said, smiling, “but it fixes enough things to be worth trying.”
I stared at him for a second and then the laugh slipped out before I could stop it, real and unguarded, surprising even me.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, shaking my head.
“I know,” he replied, grinning wider, “but you’re laughing, so my plan is clearly working.”
I laughed again, softer this time, and said, “I haven’t laughed like this since Christmas.”
He paused. “That long?”
“Two days ago,” I said quietly, then sighed. “Feels like a lifetime.”
He didn’t joke then, just nodded. “Yeah. I figured.”
I picked up my fork and finally took a bite. “You know, this might actually be the first decent thing I’ve eaten since then.”
“See?” he said. “Cake is magical.”
I smiled despite myself. “Don’t let that get to your head.”
“Too late,” he grinned, and I just shook my head and took another bite of the decadent chocolaty goodness.
He watched me for a moment and then asked, gently but still smiling, “So… are you feeling any better?”
I thought about it and said, “A little.”
He leaned back. “I’ll take a little.”
“You’re annoying,” I grumbled.
“Consistently,” he said.
“But helpful,” I added.
He pointed at me. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear the first part.”
I laughed again and shook my head. “Thank you, Hunter.”
He softened at that and said, “Anytime, Cat. Seriously.”
I lift the cup, take a slow sip of the coffee, then lean forward to take another small bite of the cake. I let it sit on my tongue longer than necessary, breathing out as I swallow. I don’t want this moment to end. Somehow, sitting in this cozy café with Hunter, having simple cake and coffee…it makes my life feel less…complicated.
He watched me over the rim of his own cup. “You sure you’re feeling better now?” he asks, his gaze intent. “You looked pretty shaken earlier.”
“I was,” I admit, pressing my lips together before taking another sip. “But I’m fine now. At least… better.” I glance at him and give a small shrug. “Thank you for asking.”
He sets his cup down. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
I pause, staring at my plate, at the half-eaten cake, and for a moment I say nothing. My fingers tighten around the handle of the cup.
“I don’t know,” I say finally. “Maybe.” I look up at him.
Hunter doesn’t push, but I see the curiosity in his eyes, hidden well behind the concern.
I did want to tell him everything, have someone to actually share my mental burden with. But the truth was, I didn’t know how much I could trust him without implicating myself further because I knew if that happened, then it could only mean I was setting myself up for something bad.