Chapter 23 #2
The words settle deep, heavy but honest. I glance toward the window and admire the soft glow of morning light cutting through the shadows. I want to believe Henry is different—that I'm different now, too. "And what if it’s not? What if I end up disappointed again?”
Wren's smile is quiet but reassuring. “Then you’ll survive. You’ve already survived worse, and you’ll continue to because that’s the kind of person you are. You’re strong and resilient, and you keep pushing no matter what.”
Unwavering belief and love sparkle in Wren’s eyes. Her words lift me up and make it easier to see through the fog of doubt constantly hiding my path forward. I want to believe in the person she thinks I am. I want to know that I’m strong enough to let myself hope.
But hope is the one thing that has continued to break my heart over and over again.
Still, she’s right. If things don’t work out with Henry, I’ll be okay. But if I keep expecting heartbreak at the end of this journey, I’ll never allow myself to reach for happiness.
With or without Henry.
When I pull into my driveway later in the afternoon, my emotions have dulled into an uneasy stillness.
Henry's car is still parked in its usual spot, but the sight of it doesn't comfort me the way it usually does. Instead, it sends a pang of uncertainty through my chest.
I sit in my car longer than necessary before cutting the engine. I press the back of my head into the soft cushion of the seat and try to motivate myself to talk to Henry. Eventually, I find the strength to exit the car.
When I round the corner of the duplex, I'm fully prepared to stomp up the stairs, demanding answers. Instead, Henry is waiting for me on the porch.
He sits on the top step, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the road like he's been waiting for hours. His hair is slightly mussed, and there's tension in his posture that makes my hands want to reach out for him.
Henry looks up as I approach, his expression shifting from anxious to cautious. He stands when I reach the bottom step, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Emma," he says in a way that makes me want to melt into his arms. I'm seconds away from doing just that, but then I place two hands against the mental wall in my brain and stand firm.
I cross my arms over my chest to protect the softness inside me. "Henry."
A deep and devastating frown settles on his face. "I was hoping we could talk."
"About this morning?" I ask, my voice sharp and ready to strike.
"Yes," he responds quickly. "And about Jenn."
The mention of her name sends a fresh pang of frustration through me. I step onto the porch, closing the distance between us, but I don't sit.
"Why are you here, Henry? You made it clear that you didn't want me around when she showed up."
He flinches. "I know how it must have seemed, but that's not what I meant. I wasn't trying to push you away, Emma. I just—I panicked."
"Panicked?" I repeat, my voice hardening. "Henry, you didn't even let me stay long enough to understand what was happening. You just sent me away like I was some inconvenience."
He exhales slowly, his hands falling to his sides. "You weren't an inconvenience. You're never an inconvenience. I was trying to protect you in my own fucked up way."
"From what?" I snap. "From your ex? From your past? Because all it did was make me feel like I was on the outside looking in. Like there's this whole other part of your life you don't want me to see."
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he might argue. But then his shoulders sag, and he nods. "You're right. I didn't want you to see what she brings out in me. How small I am around her."
The vulnerability in his words takes me by surprise, softening the sharp edges of my anger. "Henry—"
"She's always had this power over me," he continues, his voice low. "And I let her. I didn't want you to see me like that—weak, tangled up in everything I've spent years trying to move past. But instead of protecting you, I just pushed you away."
I let out a deep breath. "I understand what you thought you were trying to do, but I need you to let me in. I want to be there for you even when it's messy. Especially when it's messy."
He looks at me, his eyes filled with something raw and unguarded. "I want to. I do. But there's more I need to tell you. About the ghostwriting deal I made."
I take a step back, bracing myself. "What about it?"
"When I agreed to ghostwrite for one of Jenn's clients, I signed a contract that binds me to finish the project," he says, his voice singed in regret. "I thought I could back out when I sent her that email, but I can't. Not without getting sued."
The confession is like an annoying pin poking at the back of my neck. "So, you're stuck?"
He nods. "For now, yes. Jenn made it clear that the client won't let me break it. It's more complicated than I realized, and I should've handled it differently. I just—I didn't want to drag you into this mess."
I stare at him, trying to process what he's saying. "So, what does that mean for you? For us?"
Henry steps closer, his eyes pleading. "It doesn't have to affect us at all, Emma. This is my problem to deal with. I just need time to figure it out. I need to finish the contract or find a way out. But I don't want to lose you while I do."
The desperation in his voice tugs at something deep inside me, but I can't ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. "Henry, I can't be in the middle of this."
"You're not in the middle," he insists. "I'll keep you out of it."
"That's not the point," I say, my voice trembling. "The point is that this is part of your life, whether you want it to be. And if we're going to be something real, I can't be with someone halfway in and halfway out."
He looks stricken, like my words have physically hurt him. "Emma, I am in this with you. I want to be with you. Please don't let this ruin what we have."
I swallow hard, my heart aching at the sight of him.
"Let me ask you something. What happens if you stay in Honey Grove?
Are you going to quit your teaching job?
Are you going to write another novel? Even with Jenn still in the picture, everything seems so up in the air.
I wish I had the kind of life where none of that stuff mattered, but it does.
My life is here with Milo, and I can't be with someone who could easily leave and never look back. I need to know that we have a future together. That you see a future with me."
Henry stares at me, his mouth opening like he wants to answer, but nothing comes out. The silence stretched between us.
"I want to see a future with you," he finally says, his voice thick. "I do, Emma. But you're right. I don't know how to make that happen or what comes next."
I take a shaky breath, my resolve wavering but not breaking. "Then you need to figure it out. With Jenn, with this contract—with all of it. Because I can't be with someone who doesn't know what they want."
"I know what I want," he says quietly. "I want you."
I swallow the lump in my throat and shake my head. "I wish it were that simple, Henry. I need you to show me that you can handle this and be all in. And then when you do, I'll be here."
His eyes search mine, and I can see the battle he's fighting with himself. His face is riddled with the fear of losing me and the weight of the choices he's made.
Finally, he nods. "I'll figure it out, Pajarito. I promise."
I nod back, my throat too tight to speak. Then, without another word, I step past him and unlock my door. I leave him standing alone on the porch as I close it.
Inside, I press my back to the cool surface of the door and let my body collapse to the floor.
Hot, wet tears drip onto my cheeks and into the crevice of my lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop the pain from consuming every inch of me.
I tell myself that I did the right thing.
That love isn’t enough without stability.
But as I sit there, my chest heaving uncontrollably, I can stop the doubt from creeping in. What if I was wrong?
What if I pushed Henry away for good because I was too afraid to believe in him? Too afraid to believe in us? Once again, I let the fear control my life, crippling my heart with each fatal decision.