Chapter 2: The Woman Who Stayed
Nia pointed toward an empty bench beneath the restaurant's awning.
“You should sit for a minute.””
“I've been sitting all day.””
She smiled.
“Then sit somewhere less humiliating.””
I laughed.
“Fair.””
She helped position my wheelchair beside the bench, then sat down herself.
Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.
The afternoon traffic moved beyond the curb. A bus groaned at the intersection. A valet closed the trunk of a black Mercedes.
My phone remained in my hand.
Vanessa's messages sat on the screen.
Nia glanced at them.
“You planning to answer?””
“I don't know.””
“That's allowed.””
“You don't think I should?””
“I don't know her.””
“You heard enough.””
“I heard enough to know she was cruel.””
I looked toward the street.
“She wasn't always like that.””
Nia raised an eyebrow.
“You've known her long?””
“Three weeks.””
“And you're defending her?””
“No.””
I rubbed my thumb across the edge of my phone.
“I'm trying to understand it.””
Nia nodded slowly.
“That I understand.””
She leaned back.
“Sometimes the worst thing people do is make you waste hours trying to understand why they did it.””
I looked at her.
“That sounds personal.””
“It is.””
“You want to tell me?””
“No.””
I smiled.
“Fair enough.””
She smiled back.
Then she noticed the scar beneath the edge of my trouser leg.
“How long ago was the surgery?””
“Six weeks.””
“What happened?””
“Motorcycle accident.””
Her expression softened.
“I'm sorry.””
“Don't be.””
“You almost died.””
“Yeah.””
She looked at me carefully.
“How are you joking about that?””
“Because if I don't, I might think about it.””
Nia didn't laugh.
Instead, she said quietly, “That's probably the most honest thing you've said.””
I looked down.
“I was supposed to be back on my feet by now.””
“You're getting there.””
“My doctor says I am.””
“Then believe him.””
I smiled.
“You sound like my mother.””
“Your mother sounds smart.””
“She is.””
My phone buzzed.
Vanessa again.
I opened the message.
*Please. Five minutes. I owe you an explanation.*
I showed Nia.
She shrugged.
“You don't owe her five minutes.””
“No.””
“But you might want the explanation.””
“I do.””
“Then get it.””
I typed.
*Fine. Five minutes.*
The reply came instantly.
*Thank you. Come inside.*
Nia stood.
“You want me to leave?””
I looked at her.
“No.””
She paused.
“No?””
“I'd rather you stay.””
Something shifted in her expression.
“Okay.””
We entered the restaurant together.
The hostess smiled.
“Reservation?””
“Adrian Cole,” I said.
She checked the tablet.
“Mr. Cole, yes. Ms. Parker is already seated.””
Nia glanced at me.
“Of course she is.””
We followed the hostess toward the dining room.
The restaurant was bright and elegant, all polished marble, brass fixtures, and tall windows. Sunlight poured across the floor.
Vanessa sat near the back.
She stood when she saw me.
Her expression changed when she noticed Nia beside me.
“You brought her?””
“I didn't want to come alone.””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“I asked to speak privately.””
“You didn't ask.””
She stared at me.
“Sit down.””
I wheeled myself into the chair opposite her.
Nia sat beside me.
Vanessa looked between us.
“I don't appreciate this.””
I smiled faintly.
“Neither did I.””
She exhaled.
“Fine.””
She placed both hands on the table.
“I owe you an apology.””
Nia stayed silent.
I waited.
Vanessa swallowed.
“I shouldn't have said what I said.””
“No.””
“I was shocked.””
“I noticed.””
“I've never dated someone with a disability.””
“You've never dated someone after surgery?””
“No.””
“Then you could've asked questions.””
“I know.””
She looked down.
For a moment, she seemed sincere.
Then she looked back up.
“But you need to understand something.””
My stomach tightened.
“What?””
“I don't want to be responsible for someone's recovery.””
“I never asked you to be.””
“You might eventually.””
“How?””
“I don't know.””
“Then what exactly are you apologizing for?””
Vanessa hesitated.
Nia finally spoke.
“Maybe she's apologizing because she realized she lost access to something.””
Vanessa glared at her.
“You don't know me.””
“No,” Nia said calmly.
“But I know what I saw.””
Vanessa looked back at me.
“I wasn't trying to hurt you.””
“You succeeded.””
She lowered her voice.
“I just wasn't expecting you to show up like that.””
“Like what?””
“In a wheelchair.””
The words sat between us.
I nodded slowly.
“Okay.””
Vanessa leaned forward.
“I need you to know that I'm attracted to you.””
I almost laughed.
“You have a strange way of showing it.””
She ignored the comment.
“And I thought this could become something.””
“Then why did you leave?””
“Because I panicked.””
“About what?””
She looked around the restaurant.
Then back at me.
“My friends.””
I frowned.
“What about them?””
“They know who you are.””
The room seemed quieter.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa's eyes dropped to the table.
“You didn't tell me everything about yourself.””
“I told you what mattered.””
“No.””
She reached into her purse.
“I looked you up.””
She placed her phone on the table.
A photograph filled the screen.
It was me standing beside a yellow Lamborghini.
My navy blazer was different. I was wearing a white shirt and smiling toward the camera.
Underneath the photograph was a business article.
I recognized the headline.
*Adrian Cole Expands Cole Holdings Into Three New Markets.*
Nia looked at the screen.
Then at me.
“You own that?””
I shrugged.
“It's mine.””
Vanessa stared.
“You never told me.””
“You never asked.””
“I thought you were just a regular guy.””
“I am.””
She laughed softly.
“A regular guy with a Lamborghini?””
“It's a car.””
“A yellow Lamborghini is not just a car.””
I looked at her.
“You're proving my point.””
Her face flushed.
“What point?””
“You didn't reject me because I was in a wheelchair.””
Silence.
“You rejected me because you thought I was someone you couldn't benefit from.””
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
“That is incredibly unfair.””
“Is it?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you bring up my friends?””
She froze.
Nia looked at her.
Vanessa's fingers tightened around her phone.
“My friends know your company.””
“That's different.””
“No.””
She leaned forward.
“Adrian, they know your family.””
My smile disappeared.
“What about my family?””
Vanessa glanced toward Nia.
“I don't think I should say this here.””
“Say it.””
She shook her head.
“Not yet.””
“Then why bring it up?””
She stood.
“Because you need to understand that I wasn't just surprised by the wheelchair.””
I looked up at her.
“What were you surprised by?””
She stared at me.
“You.””
Then she turned and walked away.
Nia waited until Vanessa was out of earshot.
“She knows something.””
“I know.””
“About your family.””
“Apparently.””
“Do you have any idea what?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
We left the restaurant.
Outside, the sunlight felt harsher.
I checked my phone.
A message from an unknown number waited on the screen.
*Ask Vanessa why she really chose you.*
My pulse quickened.
Another message arrived.
*And ask her what happened to Marcus Cole.*
I stopped moving.
Nia noticed immediately.
“Adrian?””
I stared at the screen.
My older brother's name had not appeared in my life for almost seven years.
Marcus was dead.
At least, that was what I'd been told.
Nia stepped closer.
“What is it?””
I couldn't answer.
The phone buzzed again.
*He isn't dead.*
I looked toward the parking lot.
And for the first time that day, I was afraid.
Not of Vanessa.
May you like
Not of my injury.
Of the possibility that everything my family had told me about my brother was a lie.