I smile and start walking toward the edge of the creek. “You’re welcome. And I wouldn’t say it feels like home. It almost feels like more than that. When things got hard and my emotions felt too overwhelming, I came here. It was the one place I could just exist and not have to worry about—I don’t know,” I lie. I know what I was running away from.
Henry’s light footsteps sink into the grass behind me. “I feel like I might’ve overstepped that night at the library. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to tell you I was sorry.”
At first, I don’t say anything. The apology floats between us awkwardly. I was the one who was a jerk when all he wanted to do was be there for me. Maybe I forgot how to let someone do that.
And now, standing here, I hate myself for making him feel like that.
“You don’t need to apologize,” I say, turning to face him. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Henry's brows draw tightly together. “No, I pushed you. I shouldn’t have?—”
“No,” I interrupt. “You didn’t push, Henry. I have this bad habit of shutting people out when I get overwhelmed withmy feelings. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you needed to be sorry for being kind to me.”
His gaze softens, and his eyes scan my face. The understanding in his expression makes my chest ache, but it also stirs up something else. Courage.
I glance down at the ground, gathering myself. I balance my weight to the back of my sneakers and dig my heels into the cool, wet earth below me. When I look back up, I’m greeted with two pools of amber that make me feel safe.
“On Wednesday, I was talking to my Nana. She’s been trying to get me to talk to my mother, who I don’t have a good relationship with. My mom had me when she was a kid, and she never quite grew into the role. My dad didn’t want anything to do with us, so she was my only parent. There are a lot of things that I experienced as a kid.” I pause, feeling all of the memories crash down on me. “That no kid should ever have to go through. And now that I have Milo, I’m not eager to rekindle my relationship with her.”
Henry doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t look away either. His silence feels more like an invitation than an expectation.
“Actually, I didn’t decide to cut her off completely until recently. I’ve started seeing a therapist, and I’ve realized that she’s a big trigger for my depression—” I pause again, surprised I said that out loud. I take a deep breath and continue. “She does this thing where she plays the role of a good mom for a little while, and without any warning, I’ll stop hearing from her. She decided when she wanted to be a part of my life, and for a long time, I confused her love with my self-worth. It really messed me up for a while. My nana has been trying to get me to talk to her again, and it always sets me on edge. That’s why I was a jerk that night. Not that that’s any excuse.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, searching for Henry’sreaction. He doesn’t respond right away, and for a brief moment, I wonder if I’ve said too much. Before I can debate it anymore, he steps closer, his boots crunching on the forest floor.
“You weren’t a jerk,” he states firmly. “You were protecting yourself. And from what you told me, you’ve had to do that a lot.”
I swallow hard, feeling the hard knot in my throat tighten. His words were simple, but they unraveled something inside of me.
“It’s just every time I think I’m finally moving forward, something pulls me back. I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m fighting against everything and everyone—including myself.”
The wounds that never healed from my childhood sparkle like fresh new accessories across my skin. I always felt like people would turn away in disgust at them, but Henry doesn’t. In fact, he looks like he wants to help me heal them.
Henry exhales, his hand moving in the space between us. He hesitates for a moment to see if I’ll pull away before lightly resting his hand on my forearm. His touch instantly lights up my entire body, and I’m surprised by how much I don’t want him to let go.
“You’re allowed to feel like that,” he says, his voice steady. There’s a raw edge to it that makes me think he understands more than he’s letting on. “You’ve been carrying this weight on your shoulders for far too long. It’s okay to be tired. And it’s okay to let someone in so they can help you carry it.”
I stare at his hand on my arm, my mouth slightly ajar. His words are sincere and begin to chip away at the wall I’ve built so carefully.
“I was jealous the other night,” I admit quietly.
Henry’s fingers tighten ever so slightly, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that feels accidental and intentional.
“I know,” he whispers, trailing goosebumps up my neck.
I blink, startled by the ease of his voice. There is no judgment. Just understanding. “I didn’t like feeling that way. I felt like I was losing something without even realizing I wanted it.”
“I get it. I know what it’s like to fight the feelings you can’t control,” he admits.
My breath hitches, and I finally lift my gaze to meet his. Something in the air shifts between us, the woods around us fading into a quiet hum. My pulse beats faster until the steady thumping fills up my ear drums.
I’m not sure who moves first, but the polite space made for friends is suddenly gone. Henry’s free hand cups my cheek. His touch is tentative, as if he’s expecting me to pull away at any moment. Instead, I lean into it, my eyes fluttering closed and my mind becoming clear for the first time in a long time.
When I open my eyes, his face is inches away, our breathing mingling as one. Every nerve in my body comes alive and screams at me to close the gap. But for a moment, I cement myself in place, enjoying the feeling of Henry’s tender touch.
“Emma,” he murmurs, my name rolling off his tongue like an invitation. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
I don’t tell him to stop. Instead, I make the first move by leaning in. Henry takes one last deep breath before he answers my challenge and closes the gap between us.
