Chapter 25
I’ve walked into this library numerous times over the past few weeks, but the door feels heavier today. I pause before I pull it open, letting the nerves take a backseat.
When I walk in, I expect to see Henry at the front of the room, ending the night. Instead, I spot his tall frame crouched down next to my son at the other end of the room. My feet stay planted to the ground.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Wren says, walking up beside me. “I know things are complicated between the two of you, but look how much Milo loves him already.”
My mouth goes dry, and it’s hard to ignore my pulse when it feels like it’s beating in my throat.
I see Henry’s lips moving, and Milo nods in recognition.
Milo drops the crayon he was holding in Henry’s hand and points at the paper, asking him to draw something, I’m sure.
The way Henry smiles at him and politely takes the crayon makes my chest ache.
His patience and steadiness with Milo just affirm my decision even more.
Wren nudges me with her elbow. “You okay?”
“No,” I answer, feeling dread pool in my core. “I messed up, Wren. I ignored your advice and pushed him away even when I want him so bad it hurts. I thought I was protecting myself, but now I know I was wrong.”
Wren sighs, her eyes still watching Henry and Milo. “If you really think you messed up, then fix it. That man has been looking at you like you’re the only woman in the room since the day he got here and he’s not going anywhere unless you tell him to. Emma, don’t tell me you want him. Tell Henry.”
I nod, already knowing what I have to do.
Milo must hear my voice because he turns his head. “Mama!” he shouts before scrambling to his feet. He was still getting used to the cast weighing down one side of his body, so he stumbles slightly, using Henry’s shoulder for stability.
When he reaches me, I scoop him up and squeeze him tightly before pulling back. When I look up, Henry is watching me with his hands tucked in his pockets.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “I was hoping you’d come tonight. Do you have a few minutes to talk before you leave?”
I nod, Milo squirming against my side. “Yeah. I’d like that. Are you done for the night?”
Henry shifts his weight from side to side, deciding what to say next. “Yeah. You missed my closing remarks. They were actually pretty good.”
“Oh yeah?” I smile.
He smirks and tilts his head to my best friend, who’s still standing beside me. “Yeah. Wren said they were pretty good for a washed-up author.”
“You did not,” I gasp, snapping my head to Wren.
“I was testing him to see if he could take a joke,” she defends with a slight eye roll. “But anyways, I’m going to take Milo out for ice cream. Let me know when you’re done, and you can come meet us.”
I mouth a silent thank you to Wren, sliding Milo out of my arms and into hers. At first, he resists, but once he hears the word ice cream, he melts into Wren’s arms. I shake my head and smile to myself. Wren gives me one last tight smile for encouragement before heading toward the door.
Once Wren and Milo disappear through the library doors and the last few parents shuffle through the exit, Henry and I are alone.
The air feels heavier between us. There are so many unanswered questions and words left unspoken. I want to reach out and touch him, but instead, I stuff my hands into my pockets, mirroring his stance.
He breaks the silence first, raking a hand through his hair. “Emma, I wanted to talk to you before I—before I go.”
The words pierce my thin veil of composure. “You’re leaving?”
He nods, his jaw tightening. “Yes,” he answers. “I don’t want to—"
“Then don’t,” I say, my voice steady and firm.
“Emma, let me explain first. I don’t want to make this harder than it already is.”
I bite my lip, hesitating to give him the space to be the one to run away. But when I look into his eyes, I see a quiet plea, begging me to let him get whatever he needs to say out. I ignore the twisting feeling in my gut and nod.
“You made a lot of great points the last time we spoke, and it made me do a lot of self-reflection. When I came to Honey Grove, I was expecting a quiet summer of writing, but I got so much more. I met you, and you are like this light I didn’t even know I needed.
But I’ve been clinging to that light and using it as my escape.
That’s not fair, Pajarito. To you or me. ”
My mouth goes dry when I think about never again hearing the sweet nickname he gifted me this summer. I look at him and see the conflict in his face. It’s hard to ignore how he’s wrestling himself to say what he needs to.
“I’ve been stuck,” he continues. “Afraid to face the mess I left behind in the city. I’ve been hiding from what I want from my career and life. Staying here, it feels safe. And I’ve been playing it safe for way too long. I need to grow, and I can’t do that here. Not right now.”
“Henry, please don’t do this,” I say, shaking my head. “Let me just—"
He cuts me off again, the pain seeping through each word. I can tell he doesn’t want to do this. “I’m going to miss you, Emma. And I’m going to miss Milo. I might even miss this town. But I think it’s time for both of us to do the things we’ve been too scared to do.”
“No.”
Henry’s face twists into confusion. “No?”
“Henry, I understand why you feel like you need to leave, and I’m glad you’ve been able to come to terms with what you need to do.
But if you’re leaving because you think you need to figure your stuff out alone, you should know—I’m not afraid of the mess anymore.
I’ve had time to miss you, and the thought of losing you for good because I’m too afraid to give this thing a real chance—well, I would hate myself for losing my one shot of happiness in so long. ”
His lips part, ready to stop me, but I press on.
“I’ve spent so much time being afraid to want more.
But I’m done letting myself turn away when things get hard.
I know you have to go back to New York, and long-distance is going to be hard, but I don’t want to let go of this, Henry.
I refuse to let you go without a fight.”
Henry bows his head, letting my words sink in. When he looks up, I’m hit with a sea of amber so deep I’m prepared to drown in it. He steps forward and lifts his hands. Before he gains the courage to let them reach out, he asks, “You mean that?”
I nod, my heart pounding. “I mean it. We can figure everything out. We can call each other, and you can come here, or I can come to New York. I’ve never been before, and I’d like to visit. I don’t know how I feel about Milo in the city yet, but we can talk—”
His hands settle on my hips and pull me forward, taking my breath away. I brace my hands against his chest, not expecting the sudden movement. “Emma.”
“Yes?” I answer, my eyes connecting with his. My hands slowly relax and sink to his hips.
“What changed?”
I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth, considering my answer. “I did,” I answer truthfully. “I changed.”
Henry studies me, searching for any hesitation in my answer. Worry clouds his vision like he’s afraid to believe me. I knew that look all too well. Still, his fingers press tighter on my hips, and I know he doesn’t want to let go either.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I repeat, wanting the words to sink in deep and never let go.
“I’ve spent the entire summer thinking you were temporary.
I think it was a way of protecting myself because I knew it was harder to love someone who was leaving.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling this way. ”
“Love?” Henry questions.
My eyes widen when I realize what I just said.
“Oh God, no. I, um—” I stop myself when I look at Henry, and I don’t see fear there.
I see acceptance and the promise of a future full of that word.
“Wait, no. I love you, Henry. I know it’s quick and we haven’t known each other for long, but it’s true.
I think I’ve been afraid to admit it to myself, but I’ve loved you from the moment you saved me from your obnoxious brother.
Each time you called me your little bird or remembered tiny details about my son just to make him smile, it was like a constant knock at my walls.
It was a gentle reminder that I was worthy of love.
” My voice cracks with the relief of everything I’ve been wanting to say.
“I love you, and that’s why I’m not giving up on us. ”
Henry is quiet. Too quiet. I lift my hands from his hips and let them trail up the hard panel of his stomach. I don’t stop until my palms are firmly rested against his chest, absorbing the vibrations from his pounding heart. I make his heart race too.
“Emma,” he whispers my name, bringing it back to life.
“I was afraid to hope for this. Afraid to ask for more than you were willing to give. I know life hasn’t been kind to you, but I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like that again.
I see your heart so clearly, even when you try to hide it away.
I don’t want you to hide anymore, and the last thing I want is to let you go.
We’ll figure things out, no matter how hard it is. I—”
I cut him off, moving my hands to the nape of his neck and pulling him into me. I couldn’t wait anymore. His lips crash against mine in a perfect wave of softness and warmth. Our kiss is laced with the saltiness of the tears I hadn’t realized were falling until now.
Henry pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against mine. My lips stretch into a big smile, not able to contain the joy bursting from my heart.
“If you’d let me finish, Pajarito.“ Henry chuckles with a devious smile. “I was going to say I don’t care if it’s too soon. I love you too.”
Everything around us turns into a blur when the words come out of his mouth.
I forget that we’re in the library or that the next few months are going to be difficult.
I forget about everything that might ruin this moment because, for once in my life, I want to be in the moment. I want to be here with Henry.
My hands fall to his chest again, searching for his steady heartbeat. I let the movement ground me and sink into his presence. Everything was finally falling into place.
“Have you ever heard of the phrase lovesick, Pajarito?”
“Of course,” I say, shaking my head. “What about it?”
“I thought I was lovesick for a long time. But the truth is, I had no idea what being lovesick felt like until I met you.”
Henry’s hand moves to my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “That’s incredibly cheesy,” I joke, trying to laugh through my tears. “But I know what you mean.”
The weight of uncertainty is still there. I don’t know what the future holds for Henry and me, but I know we can face it together. For the longest time, I was scared to let myself hope for a love like this, but now that I have it, I’ll do everything in my power to hold onto it.
Maybe Henry had a point. Maybe I am lovesick. And maybe that’s the feeling I’ve been searching for all along.
THE END