I so regret what happened to you and the part I played in it and can only offer you my deepest, most unreserved apology. I was drunk. I had no idea Amie would do what she did. I know I froze in shock before freeing you and you must have thought I was fully participating. I had no idea it would end like that.

But I’m apologising, not making excuses.

When Amie grabbed you, I should have stopped her.

When she told me to hold you, I should have refused.

I should not have stood by while Amie gave you a hard time in the lead up to that night either.

I don’t know if you want to hear this but my code changed that night. I’ve held myself to a higher standard ever since. I just wanted you to know how truly sorry I am and you’ve been on my conscience.

Mac

Laurel stared at the letter. Was this supposed to make her feel better? She hadn’t reported him – couldn’t that be enough? Bastard. She’d been happy the past couple of days, moving on with her life, and now he’d made her face it all anew. The familiar feelings of humiliation and shame welled up in her.

The doorbell rang. With her emotions in a spin, Laurel opened the door on auto pilot to see a small woman with pink hair. ‘Hi,’ the woman said, grinning. ‘You’re Laurel, aren’t you? I’m Niall’s mum, Tonya—’ She halted, expression freezing.

Laurel gazed at her, struggling to concentrate. Niall’s mum. Mac’s wife …

The instant she made the connection she realised Tonya’s gaze was fixed on the letter in Laurel’s hand.

Tonya’s voice went flat. ‘Looks like you have a letter from my husband.’ When Laurel continued to stare like a rabbit in the headlamps, she added pointedly, ‘His handwriting’s quite distinctive. Want to tell me why he’s writing to you?’

Laurel really didn’t. The idea of telling Mac’s wife what he was apologising for was repugnant. If ever she’d wished to avoid cross-examination, it was from a woman who could be counted on to be hurt, disbelieving and aghast. In a flash of inspiration, it occurred to her that if Mac and Grady went to the same school their handwriting might be similar. She gabbled, ‘I’m seeing Grady. Actually.’

Under her colourful hair, Tonya’s face turned white. ‘Their handwriting isn’t at all the same, actually.’

Furious at landing in yet another shitty situation Mac Cassidy had helped create, Laurel felt a sudden urge to give Tonya the bloody letter. Let her see what a shit she’d married. Let Mac explain to his wife—