“No,” I say definitively. “Beckford holds too many painful memories, and I need a fresh start.” Pausing, I wonder if my next words are going to scare her, but I decide to throw caution to the wind. “If anything, you would be a reason I’d consider staying.”
She lets my statement linger for a moment before saying softly, “I’m leaving after graduation, too.”
My chest constricts. “I know.”
She stays quiet, and I let her sit with her thoughts. When she reaches into her bag and pulls out a tattered book of poetry, I smile softly. I’ve learned that when she feels overwhelmed, she turns to the classics for answers.
At least ten minutes pass before she reads out loud. “That love is all there is, is all we know of love. It is enough, the freight should be proportioned to the groove.”
My lips tug up into a grin. “Emily Dickinson, right?”
“She’s a real wordsmith. No frills, just truth.”
My damn heart races, and I nod slowly, trying to work out where she’s going with this. What is she trying to tell me? “The truth being… what? Love is everything?”
She nods. “Exactly. Not love specifically between two people but love as a constant. The base layer of everything.She’s saying we don’t need to fully understand it for it to be real. It just is.”
I glance at her. Her face is lit by the morning sun, her eyes bright. It’s unfair how often she catches me off guard like this, when she’s her brilliant, unfiltered, true self.
“That’s a pretty bold claim, little devil. Where are you going with this?”
She laughs, the sound doing crazy things to my insides. “You’re a historian, Ethan. You know half of human history is just people doing ridiculous things for love. Look at Antony and Cleopatra. Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal, one of the most iconic and elaborate buildings in the world, as a mausoleum for his late wife. Hell, even King Edward the Eighth gave up being the actual king to marry Wallis Simpson.”
“While the other half did ridiculous things because of the failure of love,” I tease, listing them off. “Like Nero, who mourned his wife so hard he married a boy who looked like her. Or Abelard, who got himself castrated over a forbidden affair. Or Napoleon, whispering Josephine’s name with his dying breath after divorcing her.”
Leni grins, tilting her head. “You’ve just proved my point.”
“What’s that?”
“Love is the common denominator.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “You always manage to turn the simplest of poems into a grand philosophical debate.”
She shrugs. “I enjoy debating with you.”
Warmth settles over me at her confession. It only strengthens my resolve to find a way tokeep her.
Leni glances down at her book, then says, “I spoke to Jeremy last night.”
“Your cousin who owns Euphoria?” I’d been surprised to find out he was the reason she went to the club.
“Yeah. He’s the black sheep of the family because of his sexual orientation,” she explains, and I hate the pain in her voice. “Euphoria was created as a safe place for people to explore their sexual desires, no matter what they were, free of judgement. I only wish he’d stop feeling guilty for who he is and allow himself to find happiness with Diego.”
“Diego?”
“He’s the head bartender. Jeremy’s been in love with him for years, but he keeps sabotaging himself because he’s scared of what our family will say.”
“Is he scared about what they’ll say to him or to Diego?”
Her brow furrows like she’s never considered that before. “Both, I guess.” She fiddles with the drawstring of her hoodie. “Sometimes people make love harder than it needs to be. Age, timing, labels, what other people will think. Why should that matter? If two people make each other feel safe and seen, that should be enough.”
Somehow, I don’t think we’re talking about Jeremy and Diego anymore, but we’re almost at the cabin and don’t have the time to unpack this. Instead, I decide to keep the mood light by teasing her.
“That’s very profound for someone who made me stop for sour gummy worms half an hour ago.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive,” she says, poking out her tongue. “I can appreciate Emily Dickinson and sugary treats.”
I laugh. “You certainly can.”
