I sit at the bar eyeing the bartender as he pours me a vodka and orange juice. Alina’s wedding was beautiful. The reception dinner is over, and speeches and toasts went off without a hitch. At the moment, half of the wedding guests are either on the dance floor or socializing as they watch the happy couple dance. For me, a couple of drinks are in order, hence my perch on this leather high-back bar stool. Whenever I’m out and feel up to drinking, I make it a point to watch my drink like a hawk while it’s being prepared. I won’t have a sip of anything served at a dinner table or brought to me on a serving tray. I learned the hard way, and no one will ever have the chance to take my control from me that way.

“Having a good time?”

“Sure,” I answer, trying not to react too strongly to Caleb’s question as he takes a seat a couple of bar chairs from me.

Kimberley swears that she didn’t know we knew each other, and that he had no idea we’d end up carpooling to the wedding, but I’m skeptical. I’m also a bit suspicious that not only did we end up with rooms on the same floor, but my room happens to be directly beside his—and with a door connecting our adjoining rooms. Can he be any closer? Apparently, he can, sitting beside me now.

The bartender sets down my drink and glances over at Caleb. “What can I get you?”

“Jack on ice.”

“Coming right up.”

“I haven’t found anything yet,” I say to Caleb as the bartender turns to the counter behind him for the bottle of Jack Daniels.

He takes that as his cue to move into the seat next to me. “It’s all right. Besides, that’s business, and this wedding supposed to be about anything but.”

Even with the loud dance music blaring around us, I’m tense. I cross my legs and stare down at my drink, thinking about what his close proximity does to me when it shouldn’t.

“I didn’t mention it before, but you look great.”

I glance at him in time to see his eyes trailing down my body. Something about the way he stares makes anger fill me up. “You and I really only have that one reason to interact,” I say, pointing my index finger back and forth between us. “I said I’d help your firm, and once that’s done, it’s best if we go back to never talking to each other.”

“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” he jests.

“It’s not funny. Nothing about what happened is funny.”

“I never said it was. Look…you know what? Never mind,” he huffs. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him get out of his chair.

“No,” I say, looking back at him, stopping him in his tracks as he starts to walk away. “Go ahead. Finish whatever you were going to say.”

“I was about to ask you if you think you’d ever let go of what happened. I get that it’s all my fault, but you need to realize that you can’t make me feel any worse than I already do.”

I should be breathing more easily when he finally leaves, but I don’t. I’m more angry now, if that’s possible. And no way am I going to let him walk away without knowing how upset I am.

Snatching up my clutch purse, I slide down from the chair and race after him.

“How dare you?” I shout at his back, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps going until we’re both in some deserted hallway behind the banquet room.

Then he pivots around and eyes me squarely. “How dare I what?”

My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely talk without my voice sounded winded and strained. “You let people you know take so much from me that night. And at one of the hardest times of my life. You don’t get to walk into my life like this, trying to turn this around to make me feel bad!”

“I’m not turning anything around. I just don’t understand how all these years can pass and you’re still just as upset with me.”

“What the hell do you want from me? Forgiveness? Well, I don’t have to ever do that.” I rest a hand on the hallway wall, hoping my knees won’t buckle underneath me. “I used to be so afraid. Now, all I feel is anger,” I say honestly, and wish I weren’t being so damned honest or vulnerable with him. But my mouth won’t stop spilling the truths that flood from my heart. Resting my back against the wall for support, I drop my purse on the floor, step out of my shoes, and slide down to the ground. I don’t even care about how I must look to Caleb, or to the female server who passes by with a tray of empty dinner plates.

“I don’t want to be filled with this rage anymore,” I admit in a whisper, and look up at him. “I don’t want to be stuck in that one moment in time, like a slave to the worst experience of my life. But I can’t stop. And I can’t let myself come to terms with your role in what happened. Seeing you just brings it all back.”

He takes a seat beside me on the floor. “I’ve said this before, Rose. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what you went through. It’s my fault, and I’m so sorry.”

“You told me that a lot of times before. It didn’t help any of those times. You don’t need to keep telling me.”

“Yes. I do. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing. I took you to that house party. I was responsible for you, and I didn’t look out for you.”

“Nothing happened to me. No one touched me. It’s that drink someone gave me…those pictures someone put online… those hurtful words people said about me… those lies…” I hear my voice trail off and am thankful that I didn’t say more.

“None of it would’ve happened if I was watching over you like I should’ve. Not a day goes by without me regretting the way I dropped the ball, Rose. You have every right to hate me. I was your boss, and that night, I was also your date. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight. I was supposed to protect you. I am so sorry.”

I’m surprised at my reaction to hearing the deep pain and remorse in his voice. It feels like I’m outside my body as I watch my hand pat his knee. It’s just for a second, but he quickly covers my hand with his, curling his fingers around my palm.

We sit there silently for a while, and after a few minutes, as one server after the other files by with their trays packed with half-empty dinner plates and used glasses, I pick up my shoes and purse.

“We should get out of their way,” I tell him. “Actually, I think I’ll call it a night.”

“All right, but let me walk you up to your room. Nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you on my watch. Not even a hangnail.” Crossing his legs, he pushes off the ground and stands up. He extends his hand to help me up.

I take his hand. For the first time, I look up at him and don’t only have the memory of that night. I don’t feel the same intense ache that used to go with it. The pain is still with me, but it’s more of a dull tightness in my chest. I smile softly. To me, it’s progress. “I appreciate you saying that.”

But he doesn’t just help me to my feet. Caleb pulls me into his body and wraps his arm around my back. “It’s taken more than eight years to have you in my arms where you belong,” he whispers in my ear. “That’s a long wait, but it’s more than worth it.” My body stiffens at first, but as he lowers his chin onto my shoulder and tightens his embrace, I relax into him. Time seems to turn back as we stand there, and I feel a flood of emotion drain from me, allowing me to heal and let go of that night, little by little with every exhale.