“Henry isn’t difficult,” I say, hoping Wren won’t see the blush creeping up my neck.
“Okay, fine,” she agrees, tilting her head toward the sun. “What about mysterious? It doesn’t seem like you know a lot about him.”
I lean back on my hands and the corner of my mouth tilts up when a small shadow approaches us. “Mama.”
“Yes, Mi?”
“Juice,” he says, pointing to the small cooler I brought with us.
I reach over and grab one but pause to ask, “What do you say?” before handing it to him.
“Pwease,” he says. I was going to miss that little quirk when his w’s turned into proper l’s. I was already mourning his childhood, and we were just getting started.
I hand it over to him, and he replies with a quiet thank you before sitting down to enjoy his juice. He’s still for approximately two seconds before bolting off after some new insect.
“Where were we?” I question, thinking for a moment. When it clicks, I continue my thought. “I actually feel like Henry has been way more open with me about his life. If anyone is being mysterious, it’s me.” I hated talking about myself.
“Ah ha!” she practically yells. “So, you’re Mr. Darcy and Henry is Elizabeth. It all makes perfect sense.”
Like a reflex, I roll my eyes at Wren’s enthusiasm while trying to stifle a laugh. “Hardly. I’m sure Mr. Darcy is just proud, not private.”
Wren sighs and takes one of Mi’s juice boxes out of the cooler. She better hope there’s another one in there. The only thing worse than a tired Milo is when he doesn’t get his juice fix after a hard afternoon of playing.
“Darcy is prideful, sure, but he’s also guarded. He only opens up to people he really trusts. And even then, it takes him forever to feel comfortable with someone new.” She takes a sip of the juice box while giving me a pointed look. “Sound like anyone you know?”
I tilt my face in the other direction, considering her statement. She’s right—I am guarded but with good reason. My trust issues trace all the way back to my childhood.
“You’re right,” I relent, picking at the frayed edges of the book. “I do have a difficult time letting people in.”
“Did you just say I was right?” Wren exclaims, slapping her hand against her chest. “I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”
“Stop being so dramatic.” I laugh, swatting at her arm.
Wren’s face twists into a grin, leaning back on her hands. “So, let’s recap here. If you’re the dark and mysterious Mr. Darcy and Henry is the cunning and charming Elizabeth Bennet, then that means you’re secretly in love with him, but you’re too stubborn to admit it.”
I let out a frustrated groan and bury my face in my hands. “Ugh, no. We’re just friends and it can’t be any more than that.”
“Can’t be?” she questions, immediately calling out my bullshit answer.
I open my mouth, hoping for a simple explanation to fall out, but nothing comes. Instead, I let my gaze wander over to Milo, running around without a care in the world. I wanted to be honest with Wren, but I was having trouble being honest with myself. Feelings were starting to slip through the cracks, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
The person who knows me the best in this world staresholes into the side of my face, carefully trying to read my mind with each movement. “It’s okay to admit you like him, Em. I know you feel pressure to be a mom first, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have room in your life for more.”
Something sharp pokes at the barrier I’ve worked hard to maintain even through the toughest storms. “It’s not just Milo,” I admit, barely above a whisper. “It’s everything. I’m slowly creating a life for myself outside of my marriage, and I can’t risk all the progress I’ve made for someone who’s leaving at the end of the summer. I can handle pushing my feelings down. What I can’t handle is letting someone in who can leave and never look back.”
Silence greets me on the other end of my confession, and I hesitate before forcing myself to make eye contact with Wren. My body flinches, expecting a cloud of concern to hover over her, but instead, I’m met with muted features and an understanding hand pressed against my thigh.
“I get it, Emma. I really do. But not everyone leaves.”
A heavy, aching sensation festers inside my body. Open wounds were weighing me down that would never fully heal, and I accepted that a long time ago. I knew what Wren was saying was true. Of course, not every relationship in my life was doomed to end in heartbreak.
But knowing and believing felt like two foreign concepts trapped in my mind. I could understand something, but years of disappointment have created a hard exterior that had trouble putting its fate in someone else’s hands.
“Henry’s not staying,” I remind her, hoping to drive home my point. “His entire life is back in New York, and Honey Grove is just a fun detour for the summer.”
“Okay,” she sighs. “Have you ever considered not always worrying about the future? Maybe try being in the moment without worrying about how it’s going to end.”
I let out a long, deep sigh followed by a weak laugh. “I wish I could do that.”
