He puts his book off to the side, his kind eyes smiling up at me.“Amy, my dear,” he greets, his voice welcoming.“Good to see you smiling.”He places his hand on the thick envelope.“Brought you the first spoils of war, so to speak.”
I pick up the envelope, impressed by its thickness.“Wow, Lou.I can’t believe this!Thank you very much.”
“Believe it my dear.This place means a lot more to this community than you realize.It all started with Mary, and now you’re the reason it continues to be so great.”He gestures to the empty chair beside him.
“Thank you,” I reply wholeheartedly, taking a seat.“I promise not to let your efforts go to waste.”I hold up the envelope for emphasis before laying it flat in front of me.
“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” he says, patting my shoulder.“The most we can ever do is give something our best.The rest is up to the powers that be.Try to take some comfort in that, Amy.”
I exhale a heavy breath.“It’s hard,” I confess, ditching my facade of faked enthusiasm.“I really don’t know how everything came down on me at once.But I can’t lose this place.I won’t.”
“Then you won’t.I believe in you.”
“That much?”
“And even more than I can express,” he replies with conviction.“You have grit and passion, my dear.Two valuable assets that cannot be taught.You either have them, or you don’t.And you, do.”
I tilt my head, studying this old man’s lovable features, sheer awe tugging the corner of my mouth up in a half-smile.“You always know exactly what to say.”
“I always speak the truth.”He shrugs, returning my smile.
My eyes flick from his face to the book resting in front of him.A well-worn paperback.
“Persuasion,” I read the title out loud.“Never heard of it.”
Lou picks up the book, handling it with gentle reverence.A soft, faraway look comes into his eyes.
“Ah, yes,” he murmurs, tracing the author’s name on the cover with his fingertip.“This was one of my late wife’s absolute favorites.”He pauses, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips as he looks down at the cover, lost in a memory.“Lord, that woman loved this book.Read it ragged over the years.”He looks back up at me, his expression clearing slightly, though a gentle nostalgia remains.“Thought I’d give it another read.It makes me feel close to my Sarah every time I open it.”
His quiet vulnerability, and the simple way he speaks of his late wife, creates a sudden hush in my own internal chaos.“That’s really beautiful,” I say softly, meaning it.“What is it about?”
“Second chances,” he begins, his voice soft and reflective.“Holding onto hope, even when things appear complicated.”He looks out through the café window for a moment, then his gaze returns to me, kind and steady.“There’s a quiet strength in the main character, Anne.A real endurance.Maybe that’s why Sarah loved this story so much.”His voice softens at the mention of his wife.“That belief in patience, in eventually trusting your own heart, and maybe getting that rare second chance at love.”
“Someone once told me love is tragic,” I say after a brief, thoughtful pause.
“Tragic?”he repeats quietly.“There’s a whole lot of fear and pain there.”
“Pain?”
“Absolutely,” he confirms.“Love is a double-edged sword.Just like it has the power to make us, it has the power to break us.”He pauses, his gaze knowing.“And should it be the kind that breaks us… well… that kind of pain…” He shakes his head slowly.“That takes a lot of courage to overcome.”
I nod slowly, thinking of Matthew’s cold eyes and the wall he threw up between us.“So you just… avoid it?”I whisper, more to myself than to him.
Lou seems to hear the real question underneath.“It would be safer, wouldn’t it?To shut out the good with the bad, just to avoid the risk.The way I see it, labelling love as tragic is a very effective survival mechanism.”
“Pretty scary,” I whisper, my words barely audible.
“Naturally.”Lou nods, lost in thought.“You see, love,” he scoffs, shaking his head, “those four little letters can’t possibly contain the magnitude of its power.To truly appreciate the greatness of it, you have to have experienced the darkness of it.”He looks at me, his gaze full of compassion.“You just can’t let the darkness win.”
The directness of his advice makes tears pool in my eyes.“The darkness of love?Yes, I can relate to that.Love is manipulations and lies.Love is a liar.Love lies,” I conclude, bitterness lacing every word.
Lou shakes his head slowly.“My dear,” he says, giving my hand a comforting pat.“Don’t mix up the weapon with the person who wields it.People will make you feel that love lies, but it is in fact those very people who lie in the name of love.Don’t let the actions of someone dishonest sour you on the whole idea.”
A sniffle accidentally escapes me.I quickly try to cover it up, clearing my throat and discreetly wiping away a stray tear.
Lou notices and immediately lays a comforting hand on my arm.“So sorry, my dear, listen to me inconsiderately rambling on.Is this about your fiancé?I’ve noticed you no longer wear your engagement ring.”
I shake my head.“It’s over between us.”I opt for the simplest explanation, attempting to gather myself.
