“Thank you.” I smile, feeling my cheeks perk up from the wine starting to settle into my body.
For a moment, we sip in silence. I know we’re both thinking about the same thing—the kiss we haven’t spoken about and the way it hovers like a secret between us.
Henry breaks the silence first. “Emma,” His voice is softyet hesitant. He sets his glass down and leans forward. “We need to talk.”
I nod, my chest tightening. “Yeah, I know.”
He exhales, now leaning back in his chair. “I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. About you.” His words are straightforward, but a raw honesty in them steals my breath away.
My face flushes, and I take a quick sip of my wine. The heat of the moment is still fresh in my mind.
“Emma, I like you. I have for a while now.”
The confession hits me harder than I expected it to. “Henry.”
“I know it’s complicated,” he continues. “I know you’ve got Milo and school and everything else. I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t plan on you. I was fine with being friends, but after that kiss—” He pauses, his gaze locking with mine. “I can’t pretend I don’t feel something—something real.”
My heart pounds, torn between fear and my undeniable pull toward him. “I like you too, Henry. But it is complicated. You’re leaving at the end of the summer, and that doesn’t give us much time to figure out what this is.”
Much like that night at the library, the determination in Henry’s expression doesn’t waver. “I know, and that’s a valid concern,” he says, leaning in closer. “But I don’t want to walk away from this because the timing isn’t right. If I only have a few more weeks left to spend in Honey Grove, I want to spend them with you.”
My mind doesn’t glaze over the fact that his answer has holes, but his words sink into the soft part of my heart that’s been guarded for so long. I didn’t want to walk away from this either.
“Henry, I—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he says quickly. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to feel this way again. It’s been a long time.”
“Since you’ve been in a relationship,” I say, finishing his thought for him.
“Yeah,” he says hesitantly before running his hand through his tousled curls. “I was in this serious relationship in my early twenties, and it really fucked with my head. She was older and I was completely enamored by her. She made me feel like I was special and more mature than everyone else my age. At the time, I didn’t know people like that—narcissists—look for others with low self-esteem that they can take advantage of. Let’s just say it did not end well at first.”
“At first?”
“Yeah, we had to figure out a way to be cordial because she also works in the publishing industry. It became very tedious to avoid her after a while.”
“She’s also a writer?” I question, unable to help myself.
“No,” he says, trailing off. His eyes drift from mine and I can tell he’s trying to navigate through his memories. Or he’s trying to hide something. “She’s a literary agent. She helps writers sell their books to publishers.”
I nod slowly and my mouth morphs into an “O” shape. “So, you’re still friends?”
“I wouldn’t say friends,” he says, guiding his eyes back to mine. “I’m sorry. I wanted to talk about us, not her.”
Henry is silent for a moment, pulling himself back into our conversation before it gets derailed. There’s a sinking feeling in my gut, but the way his eyes pin me in place makes it hard to focus on anything but him.
“I just don’t want that kiss to be the last one. I want to take you out on a real date. No distractions, no work. Just you and me.”
Every instinct I have screamed to back away and play it safe. Obviously, his past relationship still weighs heavily on his heart. But the fact that he was able to open up about it makes it easier to lean into the glimmer of hope I feel when I’m with him.
“Yes,” I whisper, not comprehending the weight of my answer. “I’ll go out with you.”
His face lights up. There's a mixture of relief and joy that makes my chest ache in the best way. “Really?”
“Really,” I reply with a small smile. “But if you quiz me on random trivia facts, the date is off.”
He laughs. The deep, genuine sound makes me forget about the goosebumps covering my skin. “Noted. No trivia.”
We fall into an easy silence, the electricity between us no longer a storm cloud but something lighter. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
