Chapter Three – Shadows of the Past
Grace sat at the small table in the corner of her café, the rain tapping lightly against the window. It had been hours since Daniel Kingsley had left, but his words lingered in her mind like an unwelcome whisper.
"We'll see."
She couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. She had spent so many years convincing herself that the world was better off without her trusting anyone, and now this stranger—this billionaire—had come into her life with promises she didn't understand.
The café was quieter now, and the few customers who remained were murmuring to each other in hushed tones. Grace allowed herself a few moments of peace, taking a deep breath, her hands wrapped around her mug of coffee as if it could ground her.
But then, her phone buzzed, breaking the stillness. A text from her mother.
"Grace, I heard from Martha. She said you met a man today. Be careful. Not all men are good."
She read it twice, her stomach tightening. Her mother, protective and wary, had always warned her about getting involved with anyone. Men had only ever brought disappointment and heartache. Grace couldn't blame her—after everything they had been through.
Her father had left them when she was a child, leaving her mother to fend for both of them. And though Grace had tried to bury the pain, it always resurfaced. That deep, gnawing fear of abandonment. Of not being enough.
She glanced at the clock. It was almost time for her shift to end. But she couldn't focus on anything—her mother's words, the café's diminishing business, or the overwhelming feeling that something had changed inside her.
As she absentmindedly wiped down the counter, her thoughts went back to Daniel. To that moment when their eyes had met—when he had looked at her as though he saw something she didn't even recognize in herself.
She shook her head, pushing the thought aside. She couldn't afford to entertain fantasies. She had learned long ago that dreams didn't pay the bills.
But then, the memories came flooding back.
The broken promises. The failed relationships. The time when she had believed she was unworthy of love—when she had convinced herself that maybe, just maybe, there was truth in what others said about her. That she was too damaged, too far gone.
She remembered a man from her past—his name was Ethan. They had been inseparable once, a whirlwind romance that had promised to heal the emptiness she felt. But Ethan had walked away, just like every other man who had ever come close.
The truth was, Grace had given him everything—her trust, her heart—but he had left with the same casual cruelty that all men seemed to carry. And that had been the moment she had closed herself off. No one would ever get close again.
She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples.
"No, Grace. You can't go there again."
She turned her focus back to the café, wiping away the residue of her thoughts. But her mind kept drifting back to Daniel. His words. His eyes.
She couldn't deny it. There was something magnetic about him. Something that made her question everything she had believed about herself.
But Grace knew better than to let anyone in. She had learned the hard way.
Then, just as she was about to lock up for the night, her phone buzzed again.
This time, it was a call from Martha—her best friend, the only person who truly understood her.
"Grace," Martha's voice came through the line, thick with concern. "Are you okay? I heard what happened today. A billionaire? What's going on?"
Grace chuckled weakly. "I don't know, Martha. It's just—complicated."
"Well, I can see that. But Grace, you deserve a chance at happiness. You're not what your past says you are."
Grace bit her lip, her emotions threatening to spill over. "I just… I don't know if I can trust him. You know I've been burned before."
"I know," Martha said softly. "But remember, God doesn't make mistakes. Maybe this is the chance you've been waiting for."
Grace closed her eyes, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall. She hated how much Martha's words resonated with her. She had been hiding from love for so long, afraid of it, and yet the idea of opening her heart again felt both terrifying and freeing.
"I don't want to get hurt again," she whispered.
"You won't," Martha said, her voice firm. "But you have to take the first step."
Grace sat down on the floor of the café, the weight of Martha's words sinking in. Maybe it was time to stop hiding. Maybe it was time to take that first step—toward trust, toward healing, toward the future she didn't think she deserved.
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End of Chapter Three