Page 142 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

When breakfast is over, I carry my plate to the sink before reaching for my purse.

The worn copy of Lady Susan peeks out from the top.

Dad notices immediately. “Library?”

I nod. “Yeah. One last stop.”

He smiles and somehow, he knows exactly what I mean.

***

The glass doors slide open as I walk into the library.

It still smells of old paper and polished wood. Sunlight pours in through the tall front windows, stretching across the worn hardwood floors. A summer school student sleeps in the reading corner with a book resting on his chest.

It almost feels like I never left.

“Well,” a familiar voice says. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to say goodbye.”

I smile as Ms. Thorn stands behind the circulation desk, her reading glasses perched low on her nose.

“Of course, you knew I’d come.”

She chuckles softly. “You always return your books.”

I pull Lady Susan from my bag and slide it across the counter to her. “I do.”

She rests her hand on the worn cover for a moment before looking at me. “So…”

“So?”

“What did you think?”

I shrug. “You’ve been waiting to ask me that since you handed it to me.”

“I absolutely have.”

“I think…” I pause, searching for the right words. “I spent most of the book trying to decide whether Susan was brave or just afraid.”

“And?”

“I think she confused control with courage.”

Ms. Thorn grins. “I was hoping you would say that.”

She stamps the inside cover before shelving it on the cart beside her.

“Do you know why I gave you this one?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Some of us spend so much time trying to avoid making someone else’s mistakes that we end up making entirely different ones. You’ve been so afraid of losing yourself in someone else’s story that you almost convinced yourself not to write your own.”

The words linger quietly between us.

She’s right.

“I thought choosing love meant giving something up.”