Chapter 37
Venus
I arrive outside the museum five minutes before my date with Henry.
Exiting the Land Rover, I straighten my dress.
It’s white linen, with a low-cut V neck, backless, and embroidered with an intricate blend of wildflowers in reds, yellows, and blues.
Ivy called it a perfect date night dress—a happy coincidence since I didn’t know I’d need it at the time.
My tattoos are on full display, well, almost, and seem to match the dress.
Strappy wedges complete the outfit—another purchase Ivy insisted on, though I don’t need the extra height.
With my hair done up in a pink scarf and braided into a bun, I feel well-put-together and, perhaps, close to normal.
Normal is what you decide it to be. My father’s voice whispers through my thoughts.
Tonight’s normal is dressy, according to Henry’s instructions. He didn’t elaborate but said he had a surprise.
Henry emerges from the museum’s entrance as I cross the cobblestone path. I stop in my tracks, nearly stumbling on my wobbly heels. He races the ten feet to steady me, though I’m fine, just a little dumbstruck over how he looks.
He’s wearing a dark blue suit that accentuates his earthy brown eyes and hair, making him look taller and broader overall.
He’s tamed his hair, trimmed his beard, and even his glasses appear shinier than usual.
He’s more handsome than ever, like he belongs in a grand ballroom with a princess hanging from his arm.
I may be reading too many of Christie’s romances.
Henry-in-a-suit causes two conflicting ideas at once: first, that he should always wear suits no matter where he is or what he’s doing, and, second, that I should remove his suit immediately. But slowly… I’d do it slowly. I think of telling him that’s what Venus wants, but I refrain. For now.
“You okay?” he asks, hand on my elbow.
“You look exceptionally handsome in a suit, Henry. Like top notch. Stellar. A plus.”
His lips curve into a delicious side-smile before he lowers for a soft kiss, gentle and sweet. “If I’m an A-plus, you get extra credit.” He pulls away, admiring my dress. “You’re perfect.”
“Perfect?” I repeat, breathless over a word that’s never been used to describe me. “That’s, um… Your compliment is appreciated. Thank you, Henry.”
He lifts his free hand, revealing a small arrangement of pale yellow and pink daisies with light purple freesia attached to a wristband. He slides it over my bracelets, and I lift it to catch the delicate, minty scent. The same arrangement sticks out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
“I-I… they’re lovely.”
“Go to prom with me?” he asks.
“Prom?” I repeat, having trouble forming words.
“Well, my version of it. A redo. Just for us.” When I can’t speak, his hands slip around my waist, pulling me close to him. “This time, no curfews, no annoying classmates, no chaperones, and no expectations. Tonight is whatever we want it to be.”
I fight the swell of emotion constricting my throat.
Our high school prom wouldn’t have been a fun event for me, but a pressure cooker.
Even preparing for it felt constricting, weighed down by what to wear, how to act, and if people would accept me.
That, on top of worrying about our future. His future.
Similar fears threaten now. Our summer will end, and what will that mean for us? But I relax, thinking of Henry’s words in Dad’s office. Fuck it.
His forehead lands on mine, forging a soft, pressureless pocket between us. “Is that a yes?”
A breathy “yes” falls from my lips before he kisses them.
Slowly, he pulls away, extending his elbow for me. I loop my arm around his, and his free hand slides over mine, bringing me closer. I’m the princess hanging on his arm.
“Dinner first,” he says.
A ten-minute stroll along the Riverwalk leads us to one of the city’s tallest buildings. We take the elevator to a rooftop restaurant with water views on one side and the city skyline on the other. Henry has reserved a quiet table overlooking the water.
I order a Vodka Cranberry and the scallops. Henry orders an Old Fashioned with his steak and grilled oysters as an appetizer. We sip our drinks, watching the activity on the water. The tiki boat disembarks on a new journey, and our eyes meet as if we’re both reliving the memory.
Henry slips his hand over mine across the table, lightly fiddling with the flowers on my wrist. “Tell me about how your classes went this week.”
I light up over the subject matter. “Yesterday, we went on a ditch excursion, and today, we all brought boots and explored the turtle pond.”
He chuckles. “I thought I saw you out there, wading in rubber boots.”
“It’s challenging in a dress. For the next outdoor class, I’m wearing my cargo pants. They’re easier and have pockets. I don’t think Ivy will mind.”
“Probably not, especially if she sees you in action. You’re becoming very popular. Have you seen the response on social media?”
“I’m not on social media, but, yes, I’ve heard about it.”
“Your students have been posting your lessons. Hundreds of thousands of people are viewing them. Are you okay with that?”
I shrug lightly. “I’ve gone viral before. It’s fine.”
“You have?”
“Co-workers frequently post my interactions with wildlife or other encounters during excursions.”
“You deserve the attention. But does it make you nervous?”
“I enjoy the positivity. It’s a welcome change from how I’m usually perceived.”
Henry’s brow pinches, but he smiles when the oysters arrive, as if glad for the distraction.
When we’re alone again, he leans closer. “I wish things had been better for you in school. I hurt you more than I helped you then. I wish I could change that.”
“I wish I could’ve changed me. If I’d been more like everyone else, it would’ve been easier for us to be together.”
“No, Venus,” he says sternly. “If you’d been like everyone else, you wouldn’t have been my Venus.”
A light gasp falls from my lips at the idea of being his. Him, being mine. And the unique symbiosis we could have by merging our lives together. “Your Venus. I like that.”
“Aren’t I your Henry?” he challenges.
“Always. Even if…” I can’t finish the sentence.
“I know.” He reaches up, trailing his fingers along my cheek. “I wish I’d climbed out of the window with you during Mr. Henderson’s English class. That guy was a fucking tool.”
Laughter spurts from me, pushing back my sudden sadness. “Do you really?”
“Yes, and I wish we’d gone to the movies, not just watched them in my basement.”
I smirk. “I wish I’d worn more dresses for you.”
“I wish I’d stood up for you,” he says more sternly.
“I wish I’d talked to you more about things that matter,” I admit.
“I wish I’d listened, even when you weren’t saying anything.”
A smile crosses my lips, considering our many silences, not just moments but days, weeks, months, when we barely spoke—when I pushed him away, and he let me, while I wrongly decided that he was better off.
Even in our absences, a quiet understanding existed between us, knowing we’d reconnect.
Like the Venus flytraps, we’d enter dormant seasons before springing to life again.
Temporary. It’s only temporary.
“Henry, this is the nicest date I’ve been on,” I announce shakily, trying to stay in the present rather than let my thoughts carry me away from him and the beautiful night he’s planned for us.
Henry looks curious. “Have you had many dates?”
Ditching the symposium with Dr. Rob McCullum comes to mind. It had the hallmarks of a good date—food, drinks, and engaging conversation with someone I would’ve enjoyed seeing again—but it probably doesn’t count since it wasn’t planned.
“Encounters, yes. Dates, no. I’ve been asked out often.
The times I’ve said yes have taught me that potential partners like the look of me, but don’t like me.
Not that I put much effort into being liked.
My goals were short-term only. Sex, Henry.
Relationships don’t work well with my career… not healthy ones, at least.”
Henry winces at my words, and I fear I’ve misspoke.
He recovers with a sigh. “I doubt they disliked you, Venus. More likely, they were intimidated.”
“Why?”
He gives me a funny look. “You’re a beautiful genius who climbs mountains, goes spelunking, wrangles snakes, and lives out of a tent most of the time. Most egos probably couldn’t take it.”
“What about your ego?”
He shrugs and flashes his easy grin. “You inspire me. Always have. Besides, I know you and like you. It’s too late for my ego to come into it.”
Our meals arrive, and our server refreshes our drinks, and once we’re alone again, I say, “Henry, are all topics open for discussion on this date? I don’t want to broach an inappropriate subject for a prom redo.”
“We can talk about anything you want. It’s whatever we want it to be, remember?”
“Then, I’d like more information.” I twist my linen napkin in my lap. “Tell me about Carly.”
“Sure, okay. Umm…” He runs a hand through his hair and pushes up his glasses.
“College was hard for me, at first. I partied too much and hooked up a lot. Carly and I were pretty good friends. She was ambitious, straightforward, and getting over a rough breakup. We bonded over that. She helped me get my act together. We both knew we weren’t in love or anything. It was just… friendly and convenient. ”
“But you wanted to love her?” I ask, remembering his words from the night of our reunion.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“For Olly. We almost didn’t have him. An accidental pregnancy on the cusp of graduating, and with her about to enter medical school, the most reasonable option was termination.
That’s what she initially wanted, and I understood.
Nothing should’ve stopped her from pursuing her education, and it was her decision. ”
“But? What happened?”
“I wanted to be a dad, Venus.” His handsome smile returns in a flash. “Carly understood that even before I did. So she offered a partnership. She’d have the baby if I agreed to be his primary caregiver. I’ll always be grateful to her for making that sacrifice.”
I nod, my esteem for Carly rising.
“She loves Olly, and she’s an amazing mom,” he goes on.
“We lived together during her residency and as she got settled into her career. We tried to be a traditional family for Olly. We couldn’t make it work romantically, but it was good for us to be together then, to support her as she finished her education, and for Olly to see that his parents are partners and friends.
When her residency was over, she picked Wilmington to stay close to us. ”
“I saw her from the roof the day I met Olly. She’s quite beautiful.”
His brow quirks. “I’m sure her boyfriend thinks so, too. It’s nice to see her happy, and Olly likes him.”
“How very amicable. Will she be equally supportive when you find someone?” I ask, remembering her unnecessarily touching Henry’s arm and blowing kisses in his direction—two facts that fail to prove her as some nefarious feature in Henry’s life—I know—but that increase my insecurities regardless.
For Henry and me to work beyond the summer, I’d be insinuating myself into a pre-existing family.
It’s hard enough to assimilate with one person, let alone his child, the mother of his child, and any other people of permanent significance.
The prospect feels like agreeing to start a game without knowing the rules when the other players are ahead by a dozen turns.
How would any outsider catch up? Or find a way to fit in without causing conflict or stress? I already know Maggie disapproves.
“Of course. She’s already being supportive,” he says. “It’s not like she hasn’t heard your name before. When I dropped him off earlier, she showed him a book she bought on fossils, so they could learn where Mango came from.”
“Oh, good,” I say, despite the anxiety rising within me. I’m suddenly fraught with confused feelings that clash with my reason. There is no evidence to suggest that being in Henry’s life will create a conflict with Olly’s mom, and she sounds like an exceptional person.
But I don’t have an impressive resume when it comes to positive relationships.
What if she doesn’t like me? What if I bring confusion and tension to Olly’s life?
What if Carly is another version of Maggie, expecting me to mess up?
To hurt Henry? To hurt Olly? And what if, like Maggie, she ends up being right?
Negative energy makes my leg bounce under the table and my bracelets jingle with my tapping fingers. I lock my feet at my ankles, willing myself to calm down and stay put.
Henry takes my hands in his, running his thumbs over my pulse points. “Does Carly worry you?”
“Blended families acclimate to include new members all the time. Some might argue that they’re more versatile and resilient in that way,” I say, failing to sound casual. A sigh escapes. “But, yes, it worries me.”
“I understand, but—” The flame from the small oil lamp between us flickers in his eyes before he shakes his head lightly. “You consider blending our families a possibility, then?”
My tension dissipates in his hopeful amusement. “One should consider all possibilities in an experiment.”
“Then, consider this… I’m falling for you, Venus.
I loved you before, but it’s stronger, deeper, everything it should be this time.
Stay or go—that won’t change. You’re already family to me.
So, whatever you need, say it. What Venus wants, needs, hopes, fears, thinks, dreams, worries, imagines…
I’m here for it all. And blending won’t be a problem, not if Olly and I can help it. ”
My heart seizes in an emotional surge, starting with him and Olly becoming my valiant defenders and ending with Henry loving me, always.
The idea of falling in love once seemed so ridiculous, but now I understand.
It’s weightless and heavy at once, freeing and desperate, beautiful and terrifying.
How is one meant to handle such emotional conflict?
Words spill out of me to fill the awkward silence. “I-I-I, um, your feelings are valid and worth consideration.”
His hands tighten on mine, releasing some of my tension. “Want to get out of here? There’s somewhere else I want to take you.”
Feeling breathless and antsy, I nod before he finishes his question. Henry takes care of the bill before reaching out to me. “Ready?”
I don’t know, but I say, “Yes.”