Chapter 5:

Sarah hid in her office like the coward she was. She wasn't even pretending to work anymore; the files were tucked away in the filing cabinet, buried under the rest of the paperwork she hadn't gotten around to.

The only thing laid out on her desk was her cell-phone. For the last hour it was all she could stare at. If she wished hard enough, would it ring?

Sarah's eyes darted to the photograph on her table. She gazed at it, her eyes welling with tears at the thought of the last few nights, and set it face down, unable to face even a still image of him.

Like the storage closet people shoved all their junk into when the in-laws came for a visit, Sarah had piled the secrets in until the door wouldn't close. Everything dangled on a precipice, and Bryce's ill-timed appearance had been too much.

What should she have done instead? The darker days of their relationship, the sad things you look back on and feel relieved to have gotten past, every hardships and heartbreaks, it was all supposed to go away.

Sarah responded out of instinct, closing herself off and trying to contain the damage before it could spread. But she could see now she was no longer as good at hiding her emotions as she once was. Chuck read her like an open book; and it changed him. He'd been polluted, her resentment and frustrations spilling over onto him.

Chuck didn't look at her the same way anymore; his gaze had lost its tenderness. When he looked at her she saw her conscience being reflected in those once loving eyes. His touch had become brief and fleeting, more an accident than something purposeful.

You need to tell him.

Sarah sighed. This couldn't be allowed to go on for any longer. If she was going to be with Chuck, then there could be no more lies, not even the white ones. She was going to be completely honest with him, even about the hideous color of his favorite sweater.

Summoning the resolve didn't mean she dreaded it any less. Where was she going to begin? Should she start with Bryce and how she was still working for the agency, or did she need to go deeper and relive every awful event in their shared past?

Would he understand? Would he hate her for what she's done?

Her conscience was getting tired of the excuses. Just shut up and tell him.

Tonight. She would tell him everything tonight.

Suddenly the phone came to life and she snatched it off her desk. Her excitement came to a halt though, when she realized it wasn't who she wanted it to be.

Unknown caller.

"Hello?" she asked, holding onto the slim chance Chuck was calling on a payphone.

"Sarah."

Sarah's hopes crashed and she clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth until it hurt. "You have a lot of nerve to call," she hissed.

The voice on the other end ignored the tone. "We need to talk."

"Like hell," she snarled. "Tell me now or save your breath—"

"It's not my fault," the man said. "You went along with it."

He's right, her conscience chimed. You should have been honest.

Sarah reached for a pencil, pen, ruler—anything she could snap into little pieces without remorse.

"You didn't give me a choice."

"You had two years."

Sarah held her tongue, unwilling to disclose the extent of his damage. She wasn't going to admit that Chuck and her were barely speaking. That she hadn't slept well for the last two nights. That she'd nearly cried when her coworkers asked why her husband hadn't come for lunch.

No. None of that. She wasn't going to tell him what he wanted to hear.

"We need to talk. There's a bistro two blocks from your work. Murietta's. I'll see you in fifteen."

The call ended before Sarah could protest.

Damn it! she swore and slammed the phone down so hard it bounced off the table and onto the floor. She had been hoping Chuck would call for lunch. She glanced at the clock, realizing with despair that it was well past the usual time. Had he forgotten again or was it purposeful this time?

Sarah wondered what he was up to. Chuck couldn't be too busy, Morgan was out of town and he said he didn't want to make any plans without his partner. Which left the much likelier and far worse scenario.

Sarah couldn't face another day of questions from her coworkers. Husband or no husband, she was going out for lunch.

_

Murietta's was a congested upscale bistro squashed between an organic goods store and a French-themed bakery. So many things about it screamed pretentious before she even got through the door, and yet it was so Bryce. Sophisticated, worldly, and just a touch too arrogant for its own good.

It was a hotspot, and the lunch hour rush made Sarah feel like the extra sardine in an already packed tin. Did Bryce choose this place because he was afraid she'd try to take him down a few notches again? She flexed her hands, the knuckles still sore from two nights ago. Her only regret was that Chuck had interrupted them when he did, otherwise Bryce would have sported some rather attractive bruises today.

Sarah scowled as she threw her bag into the vacant booth, sliding into her seat across from Bryce. She knew in an instant that she had his attention.

"What do you want?" she demanded, slapping her hand onto the cool metal surface. Caught red-handed—or eyed in this instance, Bryce had no choice but to tear his eyes from the low neckline of her blouse.

His frosty blue eyes lit up with amusement. "You came."

At one time the look may have caused her heart to beat a little faster, but all she wanted today was to exorcise him from her life as fast as possible, preferably before her lunch break ended.

"What do you want, Bryce?" she repeated, allowing exhaustion to creep into her voice.

"I needed to see you," he said. Sarah swallowed slowly, sliding her hand away from the table just as his began to creep forwards.

"We had our closure."

Bryce's eyes darkened. "No," he said. "You had yours, I didn't."

Sarah glared at him. Was this what it was really about? "Why now? Why not two years ago when I quit?"

A smirk broke over his chiseled features. "You never quit," he accused, raising his brows.

Sarah ground her teeth. He knew what she meant. "If you wanted to see me, you shouldn't have contacted Chuck."

Bryce shook his head. "He's my friend, Sarah, my only friend."

"If he was your friend, you wouldn't have come back into his life. If Chuck had his memories—"

"Chuck doesn't," Bryce said defiantly. He passed over the menu, his eyes melting with warmth. "What would you like?"

Sarah ignored the sheet he held hovering in the air. She hated how easily he could switch faces, going from mindless agent to perfect gentleman in the snap of a finger.

"I'm not hungry," she said, crossing her arms. "If Chuck had his memories, he would have never invited you into our home. You're always after something, Bryce, so what is it this time?"

Bryce clasped his hands together, brows raised at her accusation. She knew that look. He was beat but didn't want to admit it.

"I can't believe you did this to yourself," he said, shaking his head. What thoughts he held back in his eyes she didn't know, but she didn't need his pity or judgment. "You were amazing and you weren't even at your prime. You had so much potential." He tilted his head, peering at her like a scientist to a specimen. "Do you ever get bored? Restless?" Sarah looked away. It was as if he could read her thoughts. "Do you ever wish it could be you in those reports? Admit it, you miss it. Guns blazing, danger all around you, adrenaline rushing through your veins—"

Sarah glared at him.

Bryce stopped promptly. He knew he had gone far enough.

She wondered if she was losing her touch. Everything he said was true, but even the thought of leaving Chuck flooded her unfaithful heart with guilt. She couldn't.

"I'd never make you feel bad," Bryce said, surprising the woman with his insight. "I would never make you sacrifice a part of yourself for me. I would never make you become someone else." He grabbed her hand, gripping onto it like a lifeline. "What Chuck did was selfish."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. Not trying to cause a scene, she extracted herself from his hold with the least amount of force necessary but it felt something akin to wrenching a screw out of the foundations.

"Don't you ever say that again," she warned, her voice nearly drowned out by the din of those around her. Even so, the danger in her threat spoke volumes. "Chuck is the most understanding and forgiving human being I have ever met. Your so-called friendship is proof of his generosity."

She leaned in close but the barely suppressed fury in her eyes repelled the man, pushing him up against the backboard. "He gave up five years of his life for me, so don't you ever, ever, say that again."

Before Sarah could add anything else, her phone began to sound. Annoyed she would have to cut this confrontation short, she tore her eyes away from her victim and dug through her bag.

Staring at the caller ID, she nearly considered letting it go to voice mail but his beautiful smile stopped her. Bryce watched carefully, curious to see who it was.

Sarah flipped open her cell and put it to her ear, all the while staring straight ahead.

"Hello?" she asked, keeping her tone casual. Bryce stared at her, a hint of a grin on his lips.

Was she that obvious? You're getting bad at this.

"Hey…honey," she heard Chuck say on the other end. Sarah nearly sighed with relief; she missed him so much. "What-what are you doing right now?"

Sarah surveyed her crowded surroundings. There was no chance of her finding a quiet corner.

"I can't talk right now," she said, shooting daggers at the man across from her. For a spy, he was terrible at reading body language. Did he not understand the concept of privacy?

"Oh. Well it's around lunch and I thought maybe I could—"

She had waited all day for this call and here was Bryce Larkin, keeping her from what she wanted most.

What else is new?

Sarah felt like she was being examined under the microscope; Bryce watched her, reading into every wrinkle in her brow and frown at her lips. She hated being analyzed.

"No," she said, cutting Chuck off before he could tempt her any further. She sighed, wishing she could explain everything to him. "I'm with someone right now. I have to work. I can't talk."

Liar.

Sarah groaned. It was the easiest explanation.

Still lying.

"At the counter?" he asked, sounding a little surprised.

Sarah wrinkled her brows. She noticed Bryce take that into account. He smirked a little; her vexation with Chuck was something that pleased him.

"Of course, where else?" The harsh tone in which she spoke was meant for Bryce but there was no way for her husband to know.

She instantly regretted taking out her anger on him when he called out her name hesitantly, like a puppy dog with his tail between his legs.

She frowned. It was so hard to hear in the restaurant. "What?" she asked, glaring at Bryce. For once, the man took the hint and looked away, pretending for a second that he wasn't eavesdropping.

"I love you."

Sarah lost her breath. Tears began to smart in her eyes and she could see she had Bryce's attention again.

I love you too. She closed her eyes, steadying her breaths.

"I have to go," she said instead and quickly closed the phone. She took a deep breath to calm herself before she opened her eyes again. "Chuck is a hundred times the man you are." She stared at Bryce, point blank. "This conversation is over."

Sarah picked up her bag and slid out of the booth. Her hands shook as it covered the cell. She flipped it back open, entering the numbers to Chuck's cell deftly with her thumb.

"Sarah, wait!" Bryce chased after her, pulling her back. His grip was insistent and strong, and when he yanked on her arm, she nearly flew into the table.

"Get out of my way," she warned, tensing every muscle in her body. Bryce pinned her down, holding her back.

"We have a problem," he said. He was serious now. No charming smile or disarming blue-eyes, only urgency in his eyes. "Jill's escaped."

...

So...is Sarah forgiven? As always, I'd to hear what you think.