I turn away, not giving my eyes a chance to look at him. “Henry, please stop. I can’t—” I pause, not letting myself finish that sentence. “I’m tired and there’s a lot I need to do before we close.”
Henry takes another step closer, but I hold out my hand before he can close the space between us. “Don’t. I just need you to trust me and drop it for now.”
“Fine,” he agrees, leaning in but still keeping a safe distance. The space behind his glasses is painted with determination and I know he won’t give up without a fight. “For now.”
“Thank you,” I say, letting out a heavy breath. I grab my laptop and finally make eye contact, giving him a friendly smile. “I’ll see you later, Henry.”
I expect him to gather his things and leave, but instead, he stands still and keeps his eyes on mine. “What about this weekend?” he asks.
The color drains from my face.
“R-Right,” I stutter. “Just text me and we can nail down the details,” I add, trying to sound casual, but my insides feel anything but calm.
I turn quickly and don’t stop until I’m safely tucked away in the office. I rub my hand over my face and let my body collapse into one of the chairs. The feeling of Henry’s stare dissecting my every move still clings to my skin.
I should have told him the truth, but the phone call with my Nana rattled something loose inside me. Something I’m afraid to show him and even more afraid to face myself.
“Did you get the screenshot?” I ask Wren, who’s on the other end of the phone call blasting through my car speakers. I was running late to my shift at the library, and it was all Henry’s fault.
Well, not technically. The moment I was about to step out the door to head to work, I received an ominous text from him. It was unnerving, to say the least.
“Yup, I got it,” she confirms, her voice layered with amusement. “It seems innocent enough to me. He just said he wanted to talk. Why does it have you all riled up?”
The short text message rolls off her tongue as something casual that doesn’t hold much weight. But in the short time I’ve known Henry, I know he is intentional with his words. So, the lack ofwordsand vague disposition was enough to make my thoughts spiral.
I grip the steering wheel tighter and try to will myself not to overanalyze a simple text message. “It’s nothing,” I say quickly, but there’s an edge to my voice that Wren picks up on immediately.
“Emma,” Wren says, dragging out each syllable with purpose. “You don’t freak out over stuff like this. I know there’s more to the story, so spill it.”
“It’s nothing, Wren,” I repeat. “I’m not sure why I even sent you the text message. You’re right. It’s probably nothing.”
“Liar,” she sings, reaching through and cutting down my weak defense. “Just tell me.”
I sigh, flicking on my turn signal as I enter the library parking lot. I have five minutes before I need to step foot through the front doors. “Fine. Wednesday night, Henry and I talked, and it got a little tense.”
“Tense? Explain more.”
I throw my car in park and hunch over in the driver’s seat. “He was pushing me to tell him how I felt, and I almost did, but something… Well, I’m not sure what happened.”
“I know exactly what happened,” Wren hums on the other side of the line. “You shut down when it came to confronting your feelings head-on. It stems from a place of hurt and you’ve earned your right to use that move.”
A quiet sadness echoes through the speakers, and I toss my head back against the driver’s seat with a loud groan. “But?” I ask, knowing there’s more.
“But you’ll only end up hurting yourself if you keep doing that.”
“I know,” I sigh, trying to gather my thoughts. “You should’ve seen the way he looked at me last night. He has this way of cutting right through me and understanding how I feel without me telling him. But when he looks at me like that, I mourn the heartbreak I haven’t experienced. And now he’s texting me vague messages about wanting to talk. I don’t know if I can handle telling him how I really feel.”
Wren is quiet until I hear a loud sigh rattle my chest. “I get it, Em. I really do. But you’re going to have to face it at some point. You need to decide if you’re more afraid of talking to him or losing him.”
I already knew the answer. I was terrified of losing him, and that was the issue. The end of the summer meant Henry leaving and any semblance of a future together going up in smoke. I was already predicting our demise, and we hadn’t even found our beginning.
“I know you’re right, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
“I know, but I think Henry is good for you. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to let him in.” I know that in my heart, but my head isn’t giving up control anytime soon.
“Maybe,” I whisper. “Well, I’ve got to go. Love you and talk to you soon.” Wren mutters a quick goodbye, and I hang up. I quickly gather my things and speed walk toward the entrance of the library.
I let out a small cheer when I make it to the front desk with one minute to spare. “Hey! I’m here. Sorry, I’m late,” Iapologize to Evelyn, who works the front desk during the day.
