Chapter 3: The Second Meeting
Sterling Hayes chose a quiet coffee shop downtown.
Not a restaurant.
Not somewhere formal.
Somewhere ordinary.
That almost made me more nervous.
I arrived ten minutes early.
For the first time in years, I checked my reflection three times before walking inside.
I didn’t want to look perfect.
I wanted to look sincere.
Sterling was already there.
He sat near the window with a black coffee in front of him.
When he saw me, he stood.
“Corinne.””
“Mr. Hayes.””
He shook his head.
“Sterling.””
I sat across from him.
The silence felt heavy.
Finally, he spoke.
“You’re probably wondering why I asked Wesley not to come.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
I swallowed.
“Because you wanted to judge me without him defending me.””
Sterling studied my face.
“That’s honest.””
“Is that a good thing?””
“It depends.””
“On what?””
“Whether you’re honest because you mean it or because you think it will help you.””
I looked down.
The comment stung.
But I deserved some of it.
“I owe you an apology.””
Sterling nodded.
“I agree.””
The bluntness surprised me.
“I was rude.””
“Yes.””
“I was impatient.””
“Yes.””
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.””
He took a sip of coffee.
“That’s not the part that bothered me most.””
I looked up.
“Then what did?””
Sterling reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
He placed it on the table.
“What is that?””
“Something Wesley told me.””
I unfolded it.
My eyes scanned the page.
It was a printed screenshot of a conversation.
A conversation between me and my best friend, Amanda.
My stomach twisted.
“No.””
Sterling watched me carefully.
“This was sent to me accidentally.””
I looked closer.
The message was from months ago.
After Wesley had told me his father was difficult.
After he had told me how much Sterling’s approval mattered.
I remembered the conversation immediately.
Amanda had asked:
*Are you nervous about meeting his family?*
And I had replied:
*Honestly? His dad sounds exhausting.*
My face burned.
But I kept reading.
*I just hope Wesley doesn’t become like him.*
Then:
*Sometimes I think Wesley cares more about impressing his father than building our future.*
I slowly placed the paper down.
“That was private.””
“Yes.””
“You read a conversation that wasn’t meant for you.””
Sterling’s expression hardened.
“You’re right.””
I blinked.
“I didn’t expect you to admit that.””
“I made mistakes too.””
The answer caught me off guard.
Then he continued.
“But what I saw wasn’t just criticism of me.””
“What was it?””
“It was a pattern.””
I frowned.
“What pattern?””
Sterling leaned forward.
“A pattern of deciding who people are before you know them.””
The words hit harder because they sounded familiar.
Because that was exactly what I had done to him.
“I was wrong about you,” I whispered.
“Yes.””
He didn’t soften it.
“But I’m not sure you understand why.””
I looked at him.
“Explain.””
Sterling looked out the window.
“When Wesley was twelve, his mother left. He spent years believing people could disappear without warning.””
I stayed quiet.
“I taught him to be careful. To watch actions, not words.””
He looked back at me.
“When he told me about you, he said you were different.””
My chest tightened.
“He said you were kind.””
I lowered my eyes.
“And now?””
Sterling was silent for a moment.
“Now I’m trying to understand whether the woman he loves is the same woman he described.””
I felt tears forming.
“I made one mistake.””
“No.””
His answer was immediate.
“You made one mistake tonight.””
He tapped the paper.
“But this is why I asked questions.””
I looked at the screenshot again.
“I can explain.””
“I hope you can.””
“Because?””
Sterling folded the paper.
“Because tomorrow, Wesley is making a decision.””
My heart stopped.
“What decision?””
Sterling stood.
“I think you should ask him yourself.””
He reached the door.
“Sterling?””
He paused.
“What did you tell him?””
The older man looked back.
His expression was impossible to read.
“I told him there was something about your past you never mentioned.””
My blood ran cold.
“My past?””
Sterling opened the door.
“And I think you know exactly what I mean.””
Then he walked away.
May you like
Leaving me alone with one terrifying question:
What did Wesley’s father know about me that even Wesley didn’t?
