14. Chapter Fourteen
Henry shovels the last bite of taco into his mouth and stands, brushing his hands together. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”
I wipe my mouth with a napkin, feeling full and satisfied. “Sure. Why not?” I wrap up the rest of my uneaten taco and put it back in the bag, and Henry offers a hand to help me up.
Soon, we’re strolling through rows of vines with bunches of grapes hanging like jewels, ripe and ready for harvest. Henry plucks one and rolls it between his fingers before offering it to me. “Wanna try one?”
I reluctantly push it into my mouth, and it’s even sweeter than anticipated when I bite down. “Wow, that was amazing. How often do you come out here?” I ask, trailing my hand along the rough bark of a vine post.
“I used to come out here all the time. It’s been years, though. The last time was probably when Gemma was about Hazel’s age. We always used to bring her out here, Camille and I.”
I feel guilty for even asking. It’s probably just as hard for him to talk about Camille as it is for me to hear about all their happy years together.
We wander further, reaching a spot where the vineyard opens up to reveal an endless view of farmland.
We both stop, and I stare out in awe. “Wow.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“It really is. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Thanks for letting me.” Henry turns, and our eyes lock. There’s a question in his gaze. One that I can’t honestly say I’ve ever seen before.
I swallow hard, fighting the urge to spill secrets I’ve kept so close to my heart for all these years—the one about how I used to dream about him looking at me the way he is right now and the one that makes me wonder if a part of me still does.
“Rose?” His voice is soft, coaxing.
“Uh-huh?” I manage to choke out. Every nerve ending is on high alert.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “Just… glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Henry. Me too.” And I mean it, even if part of me wishes I could tell him everything. But some secrets are better left to the birds, at least for now.
The conversation comes to a halt as we enjoy the silence of each other’s company. It’s nice having a person you feel so comfortable with by your side. As I listen to the sound of finches chirping around us, I can’t help but wonder if Henry feels the same way.
His voice is the first to break the silence between us. “Rose, can I tell you something?” He sounds hesitant.
“Of course, Henry. You can tell me anything.” Or at least, I think he can. When I glance over at him, I see a look in his eyes that reminds me of a swimming hole we used to play at back when we were kids. It was always so inviting on a hot summer day but unfathomable in its depth.
“I always kind of wished...” His voice trails off, and he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’m not good at this sort of thing.”
“Good at what sort of thing?” Even though my pulse starts to race, my question comes out calm.
“Wished you would’ve… liked me, you know?” He clears his throat.
“Liked you? Henry, you were my best friend. Sometimes, you were the only person I liked.”
“Yeah, I know that. But that’s not what I mean. I wanted you to like me… like I liked you.”
My mouth goes dry at the confession, and the path in front of me starts to blur. “Wait, you… liked me?As in, liked me, liked me?”
“Well, yeah.” He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s stupid, really. It was even why I started going out with Camille. I had this idea that maybe if you saw what you were missing out on, you might—“
“Might what?” My words come out harsh. “Might be jealous?” I think back to my conversation with Julie and realize there may have been some truth behind her suspicions.
“No!” Henry holds his hands up defensively. “Rose, I never wanted to make you feel jealous. I mean, I wanted you to feel… something. But not that.”
I narrow my eyes and study him. “I don’t understand.”
“Look, Rose. I just thought if you saw what a good boyfriend I was, that maybe you might… I don’t know. See me in a different light, I guess. Like more than a friend.” There’s a genuine pain behind his eyes, and I can tell he’s not used to being this vulnerable. Still, I’m not so sure I can handle his sudden urge to confess his feelings after all these years. Doesn’t he know how messy my life is right now? Why can’t he bury them with a pint of Haagen Daz like the rest of us?
“So, why now?” I seethe. “Why wait thirty-plus years to tell me how you used to have feelings for me?”
“Because they never went away, Rose!” His sudden outburst makes me cower, and I can’t tell who’s more shocked by it—me or him. He takes a step back with an apologetic look. “Listen, I tried. I tried to move on,” he says, his voice quieter this time. “And I did. I found love with Camille, and we were good together. I don’t regret the years I had with her. But didn’t you ever think how hard it was for me after you left? After you stopped calling and coming to visit?”
The weight of his words shakes me. All this time, I thought it was my feelings I needed to protect. I never once thought my leaving would matter so much to him. “Henry, I—I’m sorry. I had no idea,” I say. Guilt pools around my heart.
“I know you didn’t, Rose. And I had no idea how to tell you. I guess I was too afraid of messing up our friendship. Like I said, pretty stupid, huh?”
I stop and look Henry dead in the eye, searching for any truth behind his words. But he meets my glare with the intensity of the noonday Sun, and angry tears spill down my face until I refuse to hold back anymore. “Stupid is a girl who obsesses over the same boy every day since the fifth grade only to watch him fall in love with her best friend after she introduces her!”
Now, it’s Henry’s eyes that go wide.
“Rose…” There’s an undeniable frustration in his voice, and I can’t anymore. I can’t have this conversation with him right now when my entire world is hanging by a thread. Not after I spent so many years convincing myself that a man like Henry would never choose a girl like me for anything more than a game of kickball or the occasional lab partner. It’s not fair that he thinks he can just—.
Before I finish my thought, Henry slips an arm around my waist and pulls me close, cradling my face as his lips crash into mine.
Every part of my mind screams to stop, but my heart doesn’t listen. I know it’s wrong even as I give in to the warmth of his arms. I’ve wanted this for so long it’s hard not to throw caution to the wind.
As I gasp for air, Henry slows to a stop, and that’s when it hits me. Henry stares back at me with a look I can only assume is regret. “I’m sorry, Rose. I—“
“It’s fine.” I cut him off before he can say the words. Before he can tell me the kiss was a mistake. Because it was. One giant, catastrophic mistake.
But that’s not the story his eyes are telling mine. Something else is buried beneath their surface that I can’t make out. And Lord knows, I won’t dare ask.
More tears. They’re even hotter than they were before, but this time, I don’t hold back. I’ve been holding on to my hurt for too long, and it’s time to let go.
Sorry, Henry.
I stumble through the rows of grapevines, and my heart pounds like a drumline gone rogue.
“Rose, wait!” Henry calls from behind me, but I don’t turn around. I can’t turn around. “Please, just let me explain—“ His plea hangs in the air, unfinished and unwanted.
Finally, I reach the parking lot and yank open my car door.
“Rose!” Henry’s closer now, carrying an air of urgency that’s almost palpable.
“I can’t,” I manage to say, sliding into the driver’s seat. Fear grips me cold and tight, but I struggle to make sense of it all. Is it fear that this moment will unravel us, threatening to undo years of laughter and shared secrets? Or fear that maybe there could be something more between us—something we may never be able to come back from?
“Rose, look at me.” He’s at my window, eyes filled with desperation. Or maybe it’s just the reflection of my own panic.
“Drive,” I tell myself. “Just drive.”
But my hands betray me as I wring them together in my lap instead of steering away from this mess like I want to.
“Are we okay?” he mouths through the glass with pleading eyes.
I take a few calming breaths and roll my window down halfway as a peace offering. “I don’t know, Henry. This is all so much.”
“I know, I know. But Rose, I’m not going anywhere. Please don’t pull away. I’m not sure my heart can handle losing you all over again.”
Again.
I search his eyes and realize maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t regret I saw after all.