The words land between us like a confession.
“You do matter,” I say quietly. “You matter more than—more than I know how to say.”
“Then say it anyway. Say something real. Please.”
And I want to. Want to tell her everything. Want to explain that I’m Scott and V. Langley and Coastal Quill in the letters. That I’ve been loving her in three different ways. That she matters more than anything in my carefully constructed life.
But the words stick.
Because if I tell her one truth, I have to tell them all. And I’m not brave enough yet. Not quite.
“I’m trying,” I manage. “I’m trying to be honest. To be—better. Different.”
“Why?”
“Because you make me want to be.”
She stares at me, the air between electric.
“That’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I know.”
“It’s terrifying.”
“I know that too.”
We’re standing too close in her tiny kitchen. Austen is watching us like we’re his personal entertainment. And I can feel myself about to do something incredibly stupid or incredibly right, I can’t tell which.
“Scott—”
“Jessica—”
The shop’s bell chimes.
We both jump.
“I locked that,” Jessica says, confused.
“Hello?” a voice calls. Grandma Hensley. “Jessica, dear, are you here? I need a book recommendation for my—oh!”
She appears in the kitchen doorway and stops short, taking in the scene: Jessica and me standing very close, both holding coffee cups like weapons, Austen purring smugly.
“Oh my,” Grandma Hensley says, eyes twinkling. “I’m interrupting something.”
“No,” we both say simultaneously.
“Nothing,” Jessica adds.
“Just coffee,” I finish.
“Mm-hmm. Well, I just needed a recommendation for my book club. But I can see you’re busy with very important coffee business.” She’s backing away with a knowing smile. “I’ll just—I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Grandma Hensley—” Jessica starts.
But she’s already gone, the bell chiming her escape.
Jessica and I look at each other.
