Chapter 13 #2
‘Lilah,’ Jasper sweeps into a mock bow. ‘I bring baked goods and opinions. You bring good taste, I assume.’
‘Depends on who you ask.’
We drift into easy banter. Jasper fills the space with commentary on shelf placement and customer psychology, while Lucas counters with dry observations.
Then I spot it. My book—well, Lola Reid—in gold script. A handwritten card beneath it: By author Lola Reid, a stunning debut novel about heartbreak and hope.
My chest goes tight. It should feel like a win, but something in me cracks open. The girl who wrote it is still in those pages, all raw nerves and careful bravery, and no one here knows.
Jasper follows my gaze. ‘Oh my GOD, have you read this?’
‘I, uh—’
‘You have to read it if you haven’t. I cried. I highlighted, like, every other page.’ He’s beaming. ‘That ending? I had to go outside and touch grass. Like literally, barefoot. I had to be dragged back inside.’
I just stare at him, unsure what to say. Surely, I look ridiculous.
Lucas glances at me over the display, curious. I hear the click of a pen cap, the scuff of someone’s boot on timber. The room is suddenly too bright.
A few shards of memory cut through.
Justin at the kitchen bench, saying it’s not real. The text I drafted last night and never sent, the way the breakup scene matches his voice almost word for word. The cursor blinking. The way I couldn’t make myself press send.
‘I, wow,’ I say. It comes out too thin. ‘Sounds like a journey.’
Lucas’s brow lifts. He looks like he’s waiting for me to say more.
‘Apparently the author uses a pen name,’ Jasper adds conversationally, still holding the book. ‘No one knows who she really is. Wild, right?’
My heart lurches. ‘Yeah,’ I manage, too quickly. ‘Crazy.’
Palms damp; I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and force a smile. ‘I’m just going to,’ I gesture toward the kids’ corner. Where there is safety amongst the mushroom stools and picture books. ‘Bathroom. One sec.’ I step away before my face gives me away.
By the window, I steady a display that doesn’t need steadying and pull a breath in slowly. You’re okay. It’s a bookstore. It’s just a bookstore. Keep moving.
The space feels lighter without eyes on me.
I take the opportunity to slip further down the aisle, pretending to browse.
The sound of my friends finds me before they do; their laughter and heels clicking, amongst the low hum of excitement.
When they appear, their faces are glowing, like they’ve just stumbled into magic.
‘Okay, so he’s hot. Like, hot, hot. Why didn’t you mention that?’ Tess immediately remarks.
‘Must have missed it,’ I say, though my grin gives me away.
‘This place looks amazing. I’ve been vlogging, and I can’t wait to post about it. People will love it here,’ Marley adds.
‘Um, who’s that with the tray of brownies?’ Rey asks quietly.
‘Lucas’s friend Jasper, I think he works here too. Very funny, you’d like him.’
‘Excuse me, ladies, I need a brownie.’ Rey spins on her heel.
‘Yes, get it, sis,’ Marley giggles.
Tess nudges me. ‘Did you see your shelf? It looks great.’
It does look great. The soft lighting, the handwritten review card under the cover, the way it sits nestled amongst other stories—warmth unfurls under my ribs, slow and steady, like stepping into sunlight after days of rain.
It’s surreal, seeing my words there, no longer hidden behind a screen or a notebook but, out in the world. Tangible. Real.
Sometimes it doesn’t feel like I wrote it at all, more like I just found the story and followed the thread.
I smile at Tess and Marley. ‘Yeah, I saw it. It looks great.’
People have fallen in love with it. Fallen in love with Eli and Savannah, with the quiet grief and slow-burn of hope I poured into those pages.
It still feels impossible. I remember writing most of it at my tiny kitchen table, wine in one hand, doubt in the other.
And now here it is, living on a shelf, being seen.
I glance away, blinking the sting out of my eyes. No one really warns you how vulnerable it feels to have people hold the pieces of your heart like that. Maybe that’s the point.
The crowd begins to thin as the late afternoon light softens, casting a honey-gold through the front windows of Inkwell & Ivy. Empty coffee cups and half-eaten pastries remain, while laughter drifts toward the door in fading waves.
Rey is deep in discussion with Jasper about a banned books display.
Tess is offering suggestions to the local poetry group near the window nook.
Marley, unsurprisingly, has found the dog-eared classics section, and is already recommending something to a stranger with the confidence of a woman born in a bookstore.
I wander quietly through the store, tracing my fingers along the spines like old friends. My cheeks have finally stopped burning, and the tight coil of nerves have loosened. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and let myself breathe.
I feel myself drawn towards Carol's chair. The space feels heavy, and I can feel her presence. She had often drunk tea and read to children in this chair.
‘Hey,’ a voice whispers.
Lucas.
He is standing a few steps away, hands in his pockets, expression open and just the right amount of earnest. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Thanks for inviting me.’ A pause, soft and tentative. ‘Can I ask you a question, Lucas?’ I say as my eyes shift back to her chair.
‘Carol’s Corner, is it too much?’
‘No, no. I like it. I was wondering, who was she to you?’
He smiles, taking a deep breath. ‘My Aunt, my father's sister.’
‘Oh, Lucas, I am so sorry for your loss. I don’t think I have mentioned that. I can see now why you have taken so much care renovating the place.’
He nods, as if about to say something, but Tess calls out, ‘We’re ready to head out whenever you are.’
I nod, ‘Yeah, let’s go.’ I linger, letting the girls walk out the door first.
Rey yells out, ‘Bye, bookstore boy.’ Their laughter leaves with them.
‘Sorry about them,’ I mutter.
Lucas laughs. ‘Don’t be.’
He walks me to the front, holding the door open as I step outside. The breeze has shifted, cooler now as dusk begins to gather around the edges of the street. I glance back once, and his eyes are still on me, noticing.
Rey gives a satisfied sigh. ‘Ten out of ten, would flirt with Jasper again.’
Tess nudges her. ‘You did more than flirt.’
Marley is holding a tote bag full of books. ‘I think I blacked out and bought six books. Someone check my bank account.’
I laugh. ‘Thanks for coming with me today.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Marley responds. ‘This is a dream afternoon for me.’
Rey leans in and gives me a quick hug. ‘Don’t overthink it, okay?’
Tess smiles. ‘He’s cute, but more importantly, he seems to see you.’
Marley is grinning as she bumps my shoulder. ‘Careful, you might’ve just met your real-life Eli.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t jinx it.’
With a chorus of goodbyes and teasing winks, we head off in different directions, the evening folding around us like soft linen.
Journal Entry - Saturday, 16th of August
The shop looks beautiful. Still familiar but forever changed. Like it’s holding its breath, waiting for new stories.
Marley joked that Lucas might be my real-life Eli. Part of me wanted to laugh it off. The other part? The quiet one I don’t always listen to, wondered if she might be right. There’s something about him. I don’t know where this is going, but for the first time in a long time, I’m curious.
xx