Wren smiles and gently bumps her shoulder against mine. “I know it’s hard, but promise me something, okay?”
I bite my lip and meet her eyes again. “What is it?”
“If you think ignoring whatever is going on with you and Henry is best, then fine. I won’t try to change your mind. But if the only thing holding you back is fear then I hope you can realize that you deserve more than that.”
My gaze falls to the ground, mimicking the sinking feeling of my heart. Her words vibrate through my bones and threaten to unravel the tightrope, keeping my self-preservation from snapping in two.
My toddler barreling toward us breaks my thought process. Milo nearly trips over the blanket, hurtling at us in a big ball of excitement. “Mama!” he yells, holding up the dandelion for me to see.
I smile at the delicate flower with all of its fluffy white seeds dancing with the light summer breeze. I grab him and pull him into my lap with a muted thud. “Make a wish, baby,” I say, carefully transferring the stem to my hands.
He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a small gust of air, not quite big enough to do the job. Before he can open his eyes and see the flower still intact, I blow sending the tiny seeds drifting into the breeze.
As I watch the seeds scatter, I think about what I would wish for. My arms wrap tightly around Milo, holding him close as I consider all the things I have. For a moment, I can’t think of anything I’d wish for, and then I remember an intoxicating smile that haunts my dreams.
If I could wish for anything, I’d wish for the courage to letHenry in.
My conversation with Wren is still heavy on my mind when Wednesday rolls around. I wasn’t ignoring my budding feelings for my neighbor; I was simply refusing to act on them. I knew I would thank myself in August when he wrapped up his detour and went back to the city.
Still, Wren’s words had cracked open something in my mind. Fear was powerful, and it was a driving force for a lot of things in my life. For the longest time, I feared the thought of being a bad wife, but then that fear was absorbed by the fear of being a bad mother. But now I’m not sure if fear is keeping me from being happy or from getting hurt. It felt like an impossible puzzle that would only be solved through actions I wasn’t ready to take.
I let out a heavy sigh and lean back in my desk chair. Henry would be here soon to get ready for his writing group. I hate how my eyesight keeps drifting toward the front door, waiting for his smile to breathe new life back into my body.
Soon, my waiting is rewarded when I hear the familiar ringing of the ball above the library door. Usually, I loathed that sound, but today, it was music to my ears.
My heart leaps out of my chest when I see how relaxed he looks in a dark grey sweater that hugs his torso. My breath hitches when my eyes creep lower and see a pair of dark jeans that somehow make his legs look longer. I love it when he wears jeans. It’s a stark contrast to the slacks he usually wears.
I watch him carefully, and as soon as he steps foot across the entrance of the library, his eyes find mine. I can see the way Henry’s amber eyes light up even from across the room. Sparks ignite in my chest, and I choke down a sip of water to snuff them out.
“Hi,Pajarito,” he says, latching onto the strap of his computer bag. I ignore the way his right bicep stretches the sleeve of his sweater.
“You know it’s summer, right?” I quip, letting my eyestrail down his ensemble. I learned at a young age that teasing was a great way to dissolve tension in a room—good or bad.
The corner of Henry’s mouth tugs upward and he leans into the front desk. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to get the cold shoulder today, so I decided to come prepared this time.” His voice is low and his eyes dance across the air between us with amusement.
Smooth. I roll my eyes and reply, “Don’t tempt me.” Henry tilts his head with a deep and irritating smile. Every time the corner of his lips tip up, it sends my heart into hyperdrive.
He opens his mouth to reply, but we’re interrupted by a woman’s voice cutting through the library.
“Henry! There you are!”
I turn my head toward the commotion and see a woman walking toward us. She’s blonde, maybe early thirties, wearing tight leggings with a fitted top that makes my eyes dip to the cleavage proudly on display. She approaches us with a bright smile and a disgusting amount of excitement that makes my nose wrinkle.
She walks straight up to Henry and places her arm on his with an easy familiarity that causes something hot and uncomfortable to boil inside me. My nails press hard onto the surface of my desk, making the skin at the edge of my finger turn white.
“Hey, Nina,” Henry greets, shifting his body to face her. A cold breeze tickles the back of my neck.
“I wanted to catch you before the workshop started,” she replies, her hand still firmly on his arm. My eyes stay focused on their connection, wishing I had Superman’s heat vision. “Can we chat for a few minutes?”
Henry leans back on the heels of his shoes and wiggles his arm from her hand. I let out a suppressed breath of relief. “Yeah, of course. Can you give me a minute?”
Nina flashes her perfectly white teeth at him. “Yes. Take your time.”
She starts to step away, but I notice the way her eyes linger on him with an appreciation that makes me clench my teeth.
“I have to go talk to Nina, but I’ll be right back,Pajarito,” he says, giving me a tight smile.
I let my head fall and try to busy my hands with some of the books littering my desk. I keep my gaze focused, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Okay.”
