Lucy moans softly, and I feel my body react to her. Better stop now so I don’t lock that door and lay her down on my desk. A man can only hold out for so long.
Over the past two weeks, we haven’t hung out as much as we were prior to my birthday night and her confession. We haven’t slept together, though admittedly, we’ve come close a few times. She has given me space when I need it, which I constantly tell her I appreciate because I can see how hard it is on her. I see it whenshe’s secretly crying at work. I see it when she posts on social media in the middle of the night. I see it in how her clothes seem to be getting looser. I see haunted ghosts in her eyes, and it absolutely kills me that I’m the reason.
But tonight, everything changes.
I’ve tried my best to be good to Lucy over this past week. She deserves a good, Godly man to lead her and love her. That’s the conclusion. How I become that man is still up in the air. And how she heals from this… I don’t know. I see how anxious I’ve made her, and her sadness is overwhelming sometimes. I don’t know how to help her through it anymore. My jokes don’t work and I don’t have answers for her. I’m starting to think she needs space, whether she realizes it or not, to work through her own stuff. I think… I think I’m hindering her.
“You seriously did an amazing job, Lucy,” I step away, my eyes traveling from her curly, teased hair down her sharp and dangerous makeup meant to give her the face of a lion. She wears a golden beige knee-length dress with fringe hanging off the sleeves and at the bottom hem. Typical Lucy, she’s running around in black-heeled boots.
How her feet don’t fall off at the end of every day, I’ll never know.
“Thank you,” she says with a happy smile and little twirl. “Makeup is my second love after writing.”
Even the mention of the word love tightens my chest, but I breathe through it, fighting the feeling.
“Ready to go entertainkids for the night?”
She smiles and takes my hand in hers. I will relish the feeling of her skin touching mine for the rest of my existence. Even if I never get to experience it again outside of my dreams at night.
“You could have dressed up, you know?” She squeezes my hand.
I shrug. “I am dressed up. Don’t I look great in my boss outfit?”
She laughs as we walk into the gym of the community center, and I’m once again taken aback at Lucy’s eye for details. Halloween has thrown up in here, and I’m thankful it came without horrors.
Because Lucy is scared easily and didn’t want to terrify kids with our Halloween Bash, she’s put together the most epic fall festival this town has ever seen.
There’s the basic bobbing for apples, throw the football through the hanging tire, and our town’s favorite game even in the midst of Halloween—Ring Pacey the Panther—where people toss hula-hoops around Juniper Grove High School’s mascot.
I wonder what poor, unfortunate soul got stuck in the suit tonight.
But aside from the classic games, Lucy has a live game of chess happening in the middle of the room, reminiscent of the scene fromHarry Potter.There’s a section devoted to giant games such as UNO and Jenga. Children wrapping their parents in toilet paper like mummies and pumpkin tic-tac-toe is going on. Plus so much more.
“Wow, Lucy May. This is incredible.” I tuck her into my side, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.
She scoffs. “You’re acting like I haven’t shown you the game plan a million times.”
I shake my head. “But still. It’s nothing compared to the reality of what you’ve done here tonight.” I glance at her, and she’s positively beaming with pride.
I thought I knew exactly what I needed to do tonight, but now I’m not so sure.
How could I let a woman like this slip through my arms simply because I don’t feel like I’m enough?
I just need to do it.
Be enough.
Forher.
“Oh, look! There’s Emma Jane, and is that…” She bounces on her toes. “The mayor is here tonight. Let’s go say hello to Mr. Knightley Austen.” She drags me behind her, and I paste a smile on my face, forcing all other thoughts from my head.
We approach the red-headed older man who just dropped out from the mayoral race a couple of days ago. “Mayor, I’m glad you could come out tonight.” I shake his hand, and he gives me a warm smile. I had invited him over email and reminded him about this event a week ago at the town’s Sweet Tea Festival.
“Thank Emma Jane. She forced me out of my office.”
I glance between the two of them, smiling like fools at one another. They sure aren’t letting the media tongue lashing get them down.
Emma Jane is twenty-three. He’s thirty-six. The people of this area have not been kind to the announcement that they are a couple. To be honest, it kind of weirds me out.
