Chapter Twenty-Five
The list had a list.
Annabelle stared at the papers spread across the library floor, all color-coded, cross-referenced, annotated with increasingly frantic asterisks, and wondered when exactly she'd lost her mind.
Final headcount for refreshments
Confirm raffle prize collection (CHECK WITH BLOSSOM)
Print programs (COLLECT FROM ARTY BY 3PM)
Test sound system (AGAIN)
Check weather forecast (pray)
Spare batteries for mics
First aid kit
Gloria's costume crisis management
Talk to Jamie (he looked sad again)
That last one made her chest ache. She'd been so focused on logistics that she'd barely had time to check in with him properly. But she would. Tomorrow. After the fundraiser. When she had time to breathe.
If she ever had time to breathe again.
"Ms. Swift?"
Annabelle looked up to find Nina standing in the library doorway, holding a sandwich wrapped in cling film and wearing an expression of gentle concern.
"You've been in here for three hours," Nina said. "I brought you lunch."
"Oh." Annabelle blinked at the sandwich like it was a foreign object. "That's so sweet of you, but I'm not really hungry."
"You said that yesterday too."
"Did I?" Annabelle tried to remember. Yesterday felt like a lifetime ago. "Well, I'm fine. Really. Just need to finish checking these invoices and then I'll…"
"Annabelle."
The voice came from the doorway, and Annabelle looked up to find Lily standing there with her arms crossed and her headteacher face firmly in place.
"Nina, thank you for trying," Lily said. "I'll take it from here."
Nina nodded and quietly left, shooting Annabelle one last worried glance.
Lily closed the library door behind her and surveyed the chaos spread across the floor. Papers everywhere. Half-drunk cups of tea gone cold. Annabelle sitting in the middle of it all like the captain of a very disorganized ship.
"When did you last eat?" Lily asked.
"Breakfast. I think. Or was that yesterday?" Annabelle laughed, but it came out thin and brittle. "Doesn't matter. I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"I am. The fundraiser's tomorrow and I just need to make sure everything's perfect and—"
"Annabelle, even for you, this is a lot." Lily sat down on the floor next to her, carefully moving a stack of programs aside and handing her the sandwich. "Talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm just tired."
"You're crying."
Annabelle touched her cheeks and found them wet. She hadn't even noticed.
"Oh," she said softly. "I suppose I am."
Lily didn't say anything. She just sat there, solid and steady, waiting.
And something in Annabelle cracked.
"I'm scared, I suppose." she whispered. "What if it's not enough? What if we do all this and the library still closes? What if I've put everyone through all of this work and stress and it doesn't matter?"
"It will matter," Lily said firmly. "Whatever happens, it will matter."
"But what if…"
"You can't control everything," Lily interrupted gently. "You've done everything you possibly can. The rest isn't yours to control."
Annabelle laughed, a broken sound. "That's not even the worst part."
"What is?"
She took a shaky breath. She didn’t want to say the words out loud but equally, she couldn’t keep them inside. "Raven's going to leave."
There it was. The thing she'd been trying not to think about, not to say out loud, as if keeping it unspoken would somehow make it untrue.
"You don't know that," Lily said.
"I do. She said it herself. She never intended to stay forever. And why would she? She has a whole life, a whole career. She's a rockstar, for God's sake. What's she going to do, stay in Bankton and teach guitar lessons forever?"
"Have you talked to her about this?"
"What's there to talk about? She's been honest with me from the start. I'm the idiot who fell for someone who was always going to leave."
Lily reached over and took her hand. "You're not an idiot."
"I tried so hard," Annabelle said, and now she was properly crying. "I tried to fix everything. The fundraiser, Raven, Jamie, everything. And I think inside, I thought that if I could just manage it all perfectly, then maybe…"
"Maybe she'd stay?"
"Maybe she'd want to."
Lily squeezed her hand. "Maybe she does want to. Maybe she wants to and can’t, maybe she wants to and will, maybe she doesn’t want to at all. But Annabelle, listen to me. You've done everything you can. The rest isn't yours to control. And if Raven leaves, that's her choice. Not your failure."
Annabelle knew Lily was right. Objectively, logically, she knew. But knowing something and feeling it were two entirely different things.
"I just want to fix it," she whispered. "All of it. I want to save the library and make Jamie happy and make Raven want to stay. I want everything to be okay. I want…"
"Perfection. And I know you do," Lily said softly. "But you can't fix everything. Sometimes you just have to let things be messy and trust that it'll work out. Sometimes you have to let okay be good enough. And sometimes you have to be kind to yourself."
They sat there for a long moment, Annabelle crying quietly while Lily held her hand. Outside, she could hear children laughing in the playground, the normal sounds of a school day carrying on.
Eventually, Lily stood and pulled Annabelle to her feet.
"Come on," she said. "You're going home. You're going to eat something, and then you're going to rest. The fundraiser will happen whether you obsess over these lists or not."
Annabelle sighed, but nodded. The fundraiser was tomorrow, in truth, there was little left to do that would make any difference at this point.
THE LITTLE VILLAGE shop was quiet for a Thursday evening. Annabelle grabbed a basket and tried to focus on the simple task of buying dinner. Pasta. Sauce. Bread. Things that required minimal effort.
She was staring blankly at the pasta selection when someone tapped her on the shoulder.
"Excuse me?"
Annabelle turned to find two teenage girls she'd never seen before, one with a phone clutched in her hands, eyes wide with excitement.
"Are you Annabelle Swift?"
"I… yes?"
"Oh my God." The girl turned to her friend. "I told you it was her!"
"Can we get a picture?" the friend asked, already pulling out her phone. "You're Raven's girlfriend, right?"
Annabelle's brain stuttered. "I'm… we're…"
Girlfriend. Were they? They hadn't discussed labels. Hadn't talked about what any of this meant. They'd kissed, they'd slept together, they'd spent quiet evenings curled up on the sofa. But girlfriend?
"Please?" the first girl asked. "It would mean so much."
"Of course," Annabelle heard herself say, because she'd been raised to be polite and accommodating, even when her brain was spinning. Even when she really didn’t want to have her photo taken by strangers.
She smiled for the photo, murmured something about hoping they enjoyed the fundraiser tomorrow, and watched them hurry off, already posting the picture.
Raven's girlfriend.
Was she?
She finished her shopping in a daze, barely registering what she was putting in the basket. It was only when she got to the car park that she noticed them.
Two men sitting in a dark sedan. Cameras with long lenses resting on the dashboard. Watching.
Paparazzi.
Her stomach sank.
She'd seen them around the village over the past few days, lurking at the edges, trying to catch glimpses of Raven. But this felt different. More invasive. Like they were closing in.
They'll get bored, she told herself firmly, loading groceries into her car. They'll leave soon. Once the fundraiser's over and there's no story, they'll move on.
But even as she thought it, she wasn't sure she believed it.
RAVEN ARRIVED AT seven with Chinese takeaway, which was a good thing because Annabelle’s groceries were still sitting packed on the kitchen table, and a cautious expression.
"Lily called," she said when Annabelle opened the door. "Said you had a rough day."
"Lily's a tattletale," Annabelle said, but she stepped aside to let Raven in.
"She's worried about you."
"Everyone's worried about me. I'm fine."
Raven set the food on the kitchen counter and turned to face her. "Are you?"
Annabelle opened her mouth to say yes, to insist that everything was perfectly fine, that she just needed to get through tomorrow and then she'd be able to rest.
But the words wouldn't come.
"No," she admitted quietly. "I'm not fine."
It felt so wrong to say those words, but so right at the same time, like she was lighter just for saying them. She couldn’t believe that she’d said them, but there they were, floating in the air between them.
Raven's expression softened. "Come here."
Annabelle went. She let herself be pulled into Raven's arms, let herself rest her head on Raven's shoulder, let herself just be held for a long moment.
"The food's going to get cold," she murmured.
"Don't care."
They stood there in the kitchen, Raven's arms around her, and for the first time all day, Annabelle felt like she could breathe properly.
Eventually, they ate dinner on the sofa, plates balanced on their laps, some terrible reality show playing on the television that neither of them was really watching.
Annabelle picked at her sweet and sour chicken. "A teenager asked for my autograph today. In the shop." She cleared her throat. "She, um, called me your girlfriend."
Raven's chopsticks paused halfway to her mouth. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"We haven't really talked about… labels."
"No," Annabelle agreed. "We haven't."
There was a pause. Then Raven said carefully, "Do you want to?"
Annabelle thought about it. About the paparazzi in the car park. About Raven's phone calls with the band. About the fact that tomorrow was the fundraiser and after that, nothing was holding Raven here anymore.
"Not tonight," she said. "Tonight I just want to… be. Is that okay?"
Raven set her plate aside and pulled Annabelle closer. "That's more than okay."
They finished eating in comfortable silence. Then Annabelle curled up against Raven's side, fitting herself into the spaces that seemed made for her, and let herself not think about tomorrow.
For an hour, maybe more, she just existed. No lists. No planning. No fixing. Just this.
Just them.
Raven's fingers traced idle patterns on her arm. The television murmured in the background. Outside, the village was quiet and dark.
And Annabelle felt something different. A recognition, maybe. That this, this stillness, this simplicity, this moment of just being, was something she needed. Had always needed, even if she'd never let herself have it.
She tilted her head up to look at Raven, found her already watching with dark, guarded eyes that were becoming less guarded every day.
"Hi," Annabelle whispered.
"Hi yourself."
Annabelle reached up and cupped Raven's face, thumb brushing along her cheekbone. Raven's breath caught.
"I don't want to think about tomorrow," Annabelle said. "I don't want to think about anything except right now."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay," Raven repeated softly.
Annabelle kissed her.
It was different from their other kisses. Less urgent, less tentative. This was deliberate. Intentional. A choice to be present, to take comfort, to let herself have this one thing when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
Raven's hand came up to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. Annabelle shifted until she was straddling Raven's lap, never breaking the kiss.
When she finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard.
"Annabelle?" Raven said, and there was a question in her voice.
"Take me to bed," Annabelle whispered.
Raven's eyes searched hers for a long moment. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"You're stressed and tired and…"
"And I want you." Annabelle kissed her again, softer this time. "I want this. I want to not think for a while. Please."
Raven stood, lifting Annabelle with her in one smooth motion. Annabelle wrapped her legs around Raven's waist, burying her face in her neck, breathing in leather and cigarettes and beer and something uniquely Raven.
They made it to the bedroom without either of them letting go.