Page 25 of The Dark Stranger
She placed it carefully beside the rest, the note folded beneath it like it belonged there.
That was the problem.
It all felt like it belonged.
She poured herself a glass of wine—more out of habit than desire—and carried it to the table. The chair scraped softly as she sat, shoulders heavy, chest tight. The note lay between her fingers again, creased now from being read too many times.
You’re so strong, Becs.
Her jaw clenched.
No.
She didn’t like that name.
She never had.
Growing up, kids tried it once or twice. Becs. It always felt wrong in her mouth, like someone trying to claim familiarity they hadn’t earned. People close to her knew better. They called her Rebecca. Or Becca.
Never that.
She stared at the word like it might explain itself.
Her mind went where it had been circling all night.
Izzy.
Of course it was Izzy.
Who else would it be?
He was her last relationship. Her biggest mistake. The one currently trying to dismantle her life piece by piece—rumors, lies, now the shop. Buying it out from under her. Bringing Jenna into it like salt in a wound.
Ruining her… or trying to pull her back in?
The thought made her stomachtwist.
Izzy had always been calculated in his own way—but he wasn’t subtle. He liked reactions. Confrontation. Control through chaos.
Flowers didn’t fit him.
Notes didn’t fit him.
Encouragement definitely didn’t.
Unless it was all another angle. Another manipulation.
Her phone sat on the table, screen dark.
She picked it up. Set it back down. Picked it up again.
There was only one person in this world who could cut through the noise in her head. One voice that existed before Izzy. Before the shop. Before all of this.
Inez.
Her childhood best friend. Her safe place. Her constant—until Becca left New York eight years ago and life stretched thin between them.
They didn’t talk often.
