Scott:I understand if you need time.
Scott:I just want you to know I’m here when you’re ready.
Scott:I meant everything, Jessica. Every letter. Every word. It was all real.
Scott:I know that doesn’t fix anything. I just needed you to know.
Five messages. Twelve hours of silence from me.
I type a response.
Me:I need space.
His reply is immediate.
Scott:Okay. Take whatever you need. I’ll be here.
I put the phone back in the drawer.
The book clubgroup chat has been active all day. I’ve been ignoring it, but the notifications keep piling up.
Michelle:Has anyone heard from Jessica today?
Amber:Caroline said she’s being weird.
Jo:Define weird.
Amber:Like, aggressively normal. Smiling but not really. Very “everything is fine” energy.
Hazel:That’s concerning.
Grandma Hensley:Should I do reconnaissance?
Michelle:No.
Grandma Hensley:I have very good binoculars.
Hazel:Everyone, leave her alone. She’ll talk when she’s ready.
They’re going to want to talk about it. About Scott. About the beach. About whatever happened that has the whole town buzzing.
I just want to get through tonight and tomorrow and the day after until this whole thing becomes a distant memory that doesn’t matter anymore.
That’s how you survive, right?
You just keep not feeling until the thing that hurt you stops mattering.
It worked with David.
It’ll work with this.
I closethe store at six. Feed Austen. Change into something that doesn’t have bookstore dust on it.
My phone buzzes one more time.
Scott:I know you need space. I’m respecting that. But we still have the author reveal event to plan on Thursday when the committee meets. I understand if you want someone else to work with me. I’ll do whatever makes this easier for you.
He’s giving me an out. Part of me wants to take it by handing off the event planning to Michelle or Amber. That way, I’d never have to see him again. But I’ve spent too many years being a coward.
