But there were no take-backs in this.
Only what he did next.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, he’d keep showing her.
And the next day.
And the day after that.
Until she believed him.
Or until he broke trying.
Jake Cooper stoppednear the corner by Wilson’s Hardware and made a note. “Fire engine will be parked here.”
Luke nodded automatically. “Already on the list,” he said, checking it off on his clipboard.
They were walking the parade route down Main Street, clipboards in hand, the late-afternoon sun slanting between storefronts that had looked the same Luke’s entire life.
They moved on, talking through timing and spacing, radios and volunteers. Luke liked working with Jake. He was steady. Direct. No wasted motion.
“So,” Jake said as they crossed the street. “Congrats.”
Luke looked up. “On?”
Jake smirked. “Festival Marshal. That’s a big deal.”
Luke huffed quietly. “Yeah. I guess.”
“You guess?” Jake raised a brow.
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
Jake studied him for a second longer than necessary, then nodded once. “Well. You earned it.”
Luke felt the praise slide off him without sticking.
They stopped again near the bandstand. Jake pointed. “Sound system goes here. Fire extinguishers on both sides.”
Luke scribbled it down.
Jake leaned back on his heels. “You good, Bennett? You seem… somewhere else.”
Luke exhaled slowly. The truth pressed at his ribs, heavy and insistent. “I fucked something up,” he said finally.
Jake raised an eyebrow but didn’t fill the silence. Just waited.
“With a woman,” Luke added. “Someone I care about.”
“Ah,” Jake said, like that explained everything.
Luke stared down Main Street, imagining it packed with people. Lights strung overhead. Music. The whole town watching.
“I was such an idiot,” Luke said. “I prioritized my career. My reputation.” He shook his head. “Instead of the thing that really mattered.” He paused. “The person who really mattered.”
Jake was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “You know what I did to Hannah.”
