Barrow
T he night air bites at my skin as we step outside the gym, and I can feel the chill creeping in through my jacket. But when I glance over at Star, I can see her shivering in that little dress of hers, the thin cardigan doing little to protect her from the cold.
Without thinking, I pull my jacket off and drape it over her shoulders.
She’s cold. I can’t stand the idea of her being cold, and somehow the simple act of doing something for her feels like it matters more than I thought it would.
"You're freezing," I say softly, my voice almost a whisper in the quiet of the night. "Let’s take a walk. The fresh air might warm us up."
She doesn’t say anything but nods, pulling my jacket tighter around her. The way she does it — almost protectively, like she’s embarrassed to need help — hits me in the chest. I don't want her to feel that way. Not around me.
We walk in silence, the sound of our footsteps crunching on the gravel filling the space between us. Heartwood’s streets are quiet at this hour, the soft yellow glow of the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement.
The town feels small tonight, almost deserted, like it’s just me and her here, alone in this little bubble.
I keep glancing over at her, wanting to make sure she’s okay, wanting to understand why she looks like she’s carrying something heavy. I’ve been around long enough to know when someone’s hiding something. And Star? She’s hiding a lot.
I want to ask her what’s bothering her, but I don’t want to push her too hard. I want her to open up to me, but I don’t want her to feel like she has to.
I can’t help but feel protective of her. She’s got this quiet strength, but I know from experience that sometimes that strength is just a wall—a way to keep people at a distance. I don’t want her to be alone with that wall. I want to be the one she lets in.
Finally, I break the silence. “Star, if you’re comfortable… I’d like to know more about you. About what brought you to Heartwood. I mean, I know you’ve been here a while, but…” I trail off, unsure of how to ask without coming across as too pushy. “I — I want to understand you more."
She stops walking, her feet crunching to a halt on the gravel, and I almost stop with her. I can feel her pulling away, like she’s trying to find the right words, but they’re stuck.
It’s a painful silence, one I want to fill, but I know it’s up to her to decide when she’s ready.
She takes a breath, then speaks slowly, each word heavy with something unsaid.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” she begins, her voice quiet. “Heartwood is small. It feels like everyone knows everyone else’s business. And for most of my life, that was fine. But then things changed.”
I want to interrupt, to tell her that it doesn’t have to be like that. That people don’t always have to know everything about you.
But I stay quiet, knowing this isn’t about me. It’s about her, and I’m not going to rush her.
She looks up at me then, and for a brief moment, I see something raw in her eyes.
I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to look so guarded, but I know she’s been hurt and has good reason to be so reluctant to open up.
Someone’s broken her trust, and it makes something inside me tighten in anger.
“I gave my heart to someone once,” she says softly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “I was…naive. I thought he cared about me. But I was just a joke to him. He told everyone what happened between us, and after that, it felt like everyone knew, and everyone had their opinion. It was humiliating.”
My chest tightens at her words. I can’t stand the thought of anyone making her feel small like that.
She doesn’t deserve it. She deserves better.
I want to go back in time, find that guy, and knock his teeth out for what he did to her.
I can see how much it’s still hurting her, the way her voice falters when she speaks, the way her shoulders slump as if she’s still carrying the weight of it.
I wish I could take that pain away from her. I find myself determined to show her that not all men are like him. I want to be the kind of man who treats her with the kindness and respect she deserves.
“I couldn’t trust anyone after that,” she continues, her voice a whisper now. “Especially men. It’s easier to keep to myself, to pretend I don’t care. But sometimes…sometimes I wish I could let someone in. But I don’t know if I can anymore.”
The air between us feels thick with everything she’s just said. It’s not just the hurt of the past — it’s the fear of the future. The fear that maybe she’ll never trust anyone again.
And that breaks me.
I’m quiet for a moment, giving her the space she needs, but inside I’m furious. Furious that someone would treat her like that. Furious that she’s been carrying this alone.
She doesn’t have to.
Not anymore.
Not with me.
When I speak, my voice is low, controlled, but there’s something fierce behind it.
“Star, I… I know what it’s like to be hurt. But I need you to understand something.” I stop and take a step closer to her, my eyes locked on hers. “I’m not that guy. I would never make you feel small. I would never humiliate you. I would never treat you like you’re nothing.”
She looks at me, eyes wide, and I can see the skepticism in her gaze. It’s like she wants to believe me, but the scars from her past are too deep.
I step forward again, closing the space between us, my voice soft but firm. “I know you’ve been hurt, but you don’t have to be alone anymore. I want to prove to you that not all men are like that. I want to be the kind of man who’s worthy of your trust, Star. I’m not asking for everything, but maybe…maybe I could be the one you start with.”
I see the hesitation in her eyes, the uncertainty that still lingers. I’m not surprised — trust doesn’t come easy when it’s been broken so many times.
But I’m determined.
I’m not going anywhere.
“I don’t want you to shut me out,” I add, my voice quieter now. “I want to be here for you. I just need you to let me.”
She takes a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. Her eyes soften, but she’s still holding back.
“I’m not ready to jump into anything,” she says, her voice shaky, like she’s not sure whether she’s making the right decision. “But…I think I’d like to try. Maybe with you.”
My heart swells at her words.
It’s not everything, but it’s enough.
Enough for now.
“Take all the time you need, Star,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And I mean it. Somehow, something shifted within me tonight, and my world now orbits hers.