Page 95 of A Hard Habit to Break

“It was you? Wow…” Noah nodded. “Because you couldn’t predict the outcome? Because I took advice other than yours? Poor old dependable Noah was no longer the friend who put you first. You think you and your money are better than us, don’t you, Petey? Better than the Johnsons, who live on the farm? Or the Wanakees, who live in the mobile home park? Or the folks on the homesteads?” The words came out as twenty years of suppressed realizations crystallized instantly. “Every time you got in trouble, I charmed your way out of it. Every time you screwed up with a girl, I worked to fix it. I’m the man you want people to believe you are. My faith, my family, and my community made me the man I am… not you.”

Pete’s face had gone pale. “We’re friends… friends help each other. I was trying to save you. That old mill and highschool are prime real estate. Stick with me on this and get back on the winning team, the tag team.”

“That’s over. Friends don’t manipulate. Friends don’t use loyalty as a pawn.” Noah’s hands were shaking now, but not with anger, with the relief of finally seeing the cost of blind loyalty and careless competition. “I’ve used my reputation to cover your mistakes. And I let it happen because I thought we were winning something, but what good is winning if you lose your self-respect, trust, and compassion to do no harm? Method matters. How you win matters.” Rachel had been right all along. It took losing her for him to admit the truth. “You’re not worth saving anymore, Pete.”

“Noah…” Rachel’s voice was soft, uncertain, but he couldn’t look at her yet. Not until this was finished.

“And now,” Noah continued, his voice growing stronger, “I’ve been complicit in hurting the woman I love. You took the information I shared and used it to humiliate her in front of the entire town. You made me a part it.”

“You are,” Pete shot back, desperation creeping into his voice. “You started researching those grant applications. I had the redevelopment plan I wanted, Noah. I’m working with the land developers. They want to bring big bucks to Service, luxury living money, not some rural care clinic and affordable housing on primo land. As my friend, you were supposed to convince the town to side with me. Instead, you worked with her on a counterproposal to mine. So, who really betrayed whom…?”

Noah dropped his head. “Of course, you’re the victim. I’ve been such an idiot. I thought you cared about this town and the people in it.” Noah shook his head, feeling sick. “You use other people’s trust to get what you want. Rachel’s redevelopment plan is better, and you can’t stand it. Even when it helps the people you swore to do your best for.”

“I will. I am—”

“You’re lying to yourself. As mayor, your decisions have real-world consequences, Pete. Bethany was on the floor for thirty minutes waiting for an ambulance.” Noah thought of the time lost. Critical minutes without advanced care. “Thank heaven, people with the skills to help were there. What if we weren’t?”

Pete’s jaw worked silently for a moment, and Noah could see him calculating, trying to figure out how to spin this. It was a look Noah had seen a thousand times but had somehow never understood.

“You don’t grasp the complexities of leadership,” Pete said finally. “Sometimes you have to make compromises.”

“Not when lives are at stake.” Noah laughed harshly. “Leadership is Rachel spending hours researching what the community has versus what it needs, talking to residents, and understanding what this town actually requires. It’s Bethany using her healthcare executive background to create programs that would save lives. It’s people working together toward a common goal instead of stealing and backstabbing and manipulating.”

“She’s turned you against me,” Pete said, his voice taking on a wheedling quality that Noah suddenly recognized as the same tone he’d used as a child when caught in a lie. “She shows up, and suddenly I’m the bad guy? We’ve been friends for over twenty years, Noah. Twenty years. That has to count for something.”

“It counted for everything,” Noah said quietly. “That’s why this hurts so much. I trusted you, Pete. I believed in you. Even when other people warned me about your methods, I defended you. I told them they didn’t understand, that you had good intentions.”

He could see Rachel watching him, her expression unreadable, and he finally turned to meet her eyes directly.

“I was wrong,” he said, speaking to her as much as to Pete. “I’ve been wrong for a very long time. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wouldn’t let myself see it sooner. I’m sorry I let old habits of unearned loyalty cost me your love and respect.”

Rachel’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t speak.

Pete seemed to sense his loss of control over the situation. “Noah, think about what you’re doing. We can work this out. The proposal can be modified, we can find ways to incorporate more of her original ideas—”

“No.” The word came out flat and final. “We’re done, Pete. This friendship, the tag team, whatever you want to call it—it’s over.”

“She’s poisoned you against me,” Pete said desperately. “Can’t you see how she is with everyone? She comes around and everyone is always paying attention to her hair, her drawings, what she’s building. Like no one else exists—”

Noah gave a humorless laugh. “You dislike Rachel for her beauty, her talent, and because she shines her own light, in her own way, without me or you.”

Pete’s face cycled through several emotions—anger, jealousy, contempt—before settling on something ugly and true to his character. “Fine. You’d rather choose the farmer’s daughter over me? Go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when precious Rachel decides you’re not good enough after all.”

“If she leaves,” Noah said steadily, “I’ll still love her, but I won’t blame her for that decision. It doesn’t change that my friendship with you is done.”

Pete stared at him for a long moment, seeming to realize that his usual tactics were ineffective. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and threatening in a way Noah had never heard before.

“You’re making a mistake, Noah. A big one.” Pete looked at Rachel. “I tried to save you from yourself.”

“The only thing I need to be saved from,” Noah said quietly, “is my stupidity for letting Rachel get away the first time.”

Pete’s face twisted with rage that he aimed at Rachel. “Bet you’re happy now. He’s as mixed-up as you are.”

Instead of fury, Rachel’s features flattened with a pitying resolve. “Mixed.” She chuckled. “Guess that’s another dig at my Afro or European heritage… my thick lips, curved hips. Or maybe it’s the red hair and pale skin I arrived in this world wrapped in. Either way, you don’t have the right to police or question my Blackness. I tell you who I am, not the other way around.”

Pete gave a smirk of disapproval, but Noah more than listened; he heard Rachel’s weariness of the generations dealing with static belief systems. “Is this the part when you tell me to kiss your apple bottom?”

Rachel crossed both arms over her chest, unflinching, unbothered by the obvious insult. “No. It’s my body. My choice. I’d never want any part of you touching me.” With a stubborn lift of her chin, she returned his smirk. “That’s called freedom.”