Chapter 52 Henry
Henry
The plan was for Venus to test the escape room first—alone. I wanted her to take her time, marveling over the room’s thoughtful design, the plants and artifacts, and the clues and puzzles that I lovingly created with her in mind. The challenge blends our two loves—botany and history.
I made the room all about us. Our favorite movie posters line the walls between botanical prints and some of her drawings.
A TV tucked in the corner plays the opening number from Little Shop of Horrors.
The shelves are filled with books from our childhood—history, art, and science.
Lab coats, gardening aprons, and scarves hang from a coatrack.
Plants take up every space in planters, jars, and hanging from the ceiling.
Paints, scientific tools, journals, and flowers, so many flowers, clutter the backlit counter, as if she’d been working there, engrossed in a thousand things at once.
An art book lies open on the desk, displaying Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.
Turns out, I wasn’t tapped out on romantic gestures after all. I doubt I’ll ever be when it comes to her.
But ten minutes into her seclusion, and with the crowd distracted by drinks, cake, and Eric’s more family-friendly juggling routine, I can no longer stand it.
Escape room doors aren’t actually locked—that would break all sorts of laws and codes—so when no one’s looking, I slip inside.
Venus sits on the edge of the cluttered desk, her face buried in her hands. Crying. Her sadness turns me inside out, guts me. My best intentions fizzle into hopelessness, seeing her like this.
This isn’t what I wanted for her. Not tonight. Not ever. Yet, I’m the cause of it. She’s leaving, and I’ve made her even more heartbroken over it.
The antique key and the wooden lockbox that ends the game sit beside her. Inside the box, winners find a code that, once entered into the iPad perched by the door, declares their success with lights and music.
Tonight, though, that box holds her passport and a note.
Venus,
You’ve always been my favorite adventure. Now, we’re family—you, me, and Olly.
Wherever you go, I’ll chase.
Whatever you need, I’ll give.
Whenever you’re ready, home will be here, waiting.
Love ALWAYS,
Henry
She holds both in her lap as she sobs—my big romantic gesture has only made our reality harder to accept. I go to her, crossing the room in two long strides, and run my hands up her exposed arms.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as she reaches out to me. She tugs me close, opening her legs for me to nestle against her thighs. “I didn’t mean to… I thought… I’m sorry, Vee.”
Tears speck my eyes as I realize—it’s the greenhouse all over again.
I’ve prolonged the agony, made it sharper, forced her into a long, devastating goodbye when her way would’ve been easier.
Home should be a sanctuary, not a trap. And perhaps the only place for Venus to feel free is out there, lost, away from us.
I lean into her, nuzzling her nose and resting my forehead against hers. Our hot breaths mingle, and her damp cheeks catch against my beard. “It’s too much,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it harder for you.”
“No, Henry, no. You haven’t,” she cries, her hands rising to my neck, as if she needs me close. “I love it. It’s… us.”
It was us. My brow pinches with the thought of her boarding a plane, taking off, leaving us behind. Tears slip from my eyes as she studies me. I want to ask her when she leaves, to calculate how much time we have left, but fearing the answer, all I can get out is, “When?”
“I’m not leaving, Henry,” she says softly.
I sputter a breathless, “What?”
Her eyes find mine, though our breaths fog my glasses. “I’m not leaving. Not leaving you and Olly.”
A guarded smile emerges as my hands grip her soft cheeks. “But you’re crying?”
“You and Olly, this room, your note—I couldn’t help it,” she mutters. “I’m crying because I’m happy.”
“You’re not leaving?” I ask again, sure I must not be hearing her right.
“I’m not leaving,” she says, slower this time. She pushes the passport against my chest. “Keep it. Put it with yours and Olly’s because the next trip we take will be together.”
I tuck her passport into my jacket pocket and collapse against her, blubbering with happiness and relief. With anyone else, I’d be embarrassed—the king of the ugly cry.
But it’s her.
Brilliant, bold, beautiful, her.
Brave and vulnerable, her.
My absolute, my fixed constant, her.
My best friend, her.
Partner, soulmate, her.
And she loves me just as I am.
The same way I love her.
Tears, big feelings, and all.
She swipes her palms over my wet cheeks as I do the same to her, and laughter breaks through.
Venus has never made me feel bad about anything, certainly not something as natural as tears.
But joy zips through me at the thought that from now on, all those big emotions, hers and mine, we’ll experience together.
It’s okay. You’re with me. Everything’ll be okay.
“I’ve never been happier,” I mumble softly.
“Me, neither,” she says, her voice catching on emotion, too. Unable to hold back any longer, I kiss her, and she laughs at the urgency of it. Over and over, kissing her. I can barely stop to ask her what she means. “So, you’re staying?”
“We’ve been apart too much already, Henry,” she says. “And with Olly at this optimal stage of his development and scientific education, I don’t want to waste another minute.”
More kissing.
“But what about your work? New Zealand?”
“That’s also why I was late,” she says breathlessly before kissing me again. “Renegotiating with Dr. McCullum. I wanted to accept New Zealand, but I couldn’t without some changes.”
More kissing. “What changes?”
“I’m consulting on the New Zealand project. It’ll mostly be remote, but I’ll spend a few weeks there in August to get the team started. I want you and Olly to go with me.”
“To New Zealand? This summer?”
Her brow crinkles. “It’s short notice, I know, but according to the detailed plan you outlined, it’s possible if you can leave the museum. It truly is magnificent, Henry. I’m so proud of you.”
A smile peeks through my incessant kissing. “Thanks, and yes, we’ll go wherever, whenever you want. I’ll speak to Carly, and I’ve made Eric the Sword-Swallower, Eric the manager. It’s too much for me, and Jay would’ve wanted me to have help.”
“Help is good,” she says, her brow pinched as if trying to come up with something more eloquent, though she said it perfectly.
More kissing.
“Oh, there’s more,” she says. “I’ve agreed to teach special topics courses at UNCW and assist Dad with his research part-time, so I can pursue my art, too. A textbook company has reached out about hiring me for illustrations.”
“That’s amazing. You’re amazing.” My lips crush hers in yet another desperate kiss. “I love this plan. I love that you want us with you. It’s fucking perfect.”
She pulls away, smiling coyly. “It’s me being Venus and you being Henry, and us, finally getting to love each other like we’ve always wanted.”
“Finally.” I take her hands in mine, bring them between us, and kiss her fingers. “Venus, look! Your ring!”
Her damp eyes widen as she takes in the long, oval surface of my grandmother’s ring, now an unmistakable blue. Bright and serene, like the perfect summer sky.
“I-I don’t understand,” she gawks. “It’s not onyx.”
“No, it’s a mood ring,” I remind her.
“Mood rings use thermochromic liquid crystals that change according to body heat and blood flow. The crystals absorb energy, causing a molecular color change. Why would it change now? After all this time?”
I can’t contain my sappy grin. “Because you’re happy.”
Her brow pinches with scrutiny, her eyes fluctuating between me and the ring, and I sense the scientific argument that’s building in her head.
“Trust it. Don’t reason it out,” I say with a laugh before kissing her again. “I bet it stays that color from now on.”
“Highly unlikely, scientifically,” she says, “but anything’s possible with you.”
I kiss her again. “I like the sound of that. Maybe it’s blue because you’re being so damn romantic. Staying with us.”
“Not romantic. Pragmatic,” she corrects. “I’d be too distracted to work and make incredible scientific discoveries without you and Olly close at hand.”
“Yeah, right,” I say, with playful sarcasm. “Us being together—it’s for science.”
“The world needs me at my best,” she says. “Olly, too—”
As if whispering his name summoned him, a low pound on the door is followed by, “Dad? Venus?”
I laugh against her. “Think we can pull ourselves together enough to get back out there?”
She tugs my glasses from my face and wipes the smeared lenses with my tie. “I hope so. There’s cake.”
“Just a sec, Olly,” I call before kissing her again.
She straightens the knot in my tie while I sweep out the wrinkles in her dress.
“How long did it take you?” I ask, realizing that the escape room test will need a result.
Her coy smirk gives me pause. “Eight minutes.”
“Damn, only eight?”
“It’s very enjoyable, Henry. I predict it will take the average group with limited prior knowledge about forty minutes, especially given the obvious conflicts and debates typical of a group endeavor. That’s ideal, I think.”
My eyes narrow at her as we move toward the door. “You think so?”
“The oleander clue and the Tar Heel reference were especially clever. Oh, and I love the movie and the posters.”
“Little Shop of Horrors and You’ve Got Mail, just for you.”
Stopping at the door, she twists around again, seeming to examine every small detail. “I love it. It’s perfect... but perhaps it’s best not to tell them that it only took me eight minutes. It might make them think it’s too easy.”
I reach for the door handle, but hesitate. “Yeah, but you are a genius.”
She nods. “True. Let’s say it took fifteen.”
“Ready to escape?” I ask with a grin.
“With you, I think I’m ready for anything,” she says, taking my hand in hers.
I open the door, and Olly practically falls inside and launches into an excited report of the evening’s highlights for Venus, who listens attentively and asks thoughtful questions as he leads us to the cake.