20. Millie
CHAPTER 20
Millie
I ’ve been so used to seeing Will every day that going a day without him was weird. Sunday went by fast since I had plenty to do, like pick up my car from The Shed, but it still didn’t matter.
He seemed a bit distant. We didn’t text much. I’m hoping that today when we meet in the coffee shop, everything will be back to normal.
Whatever normal is for us.
“Hi, Millie, what a surprise.” Miss Jane grins.
“Yeah, I know. I’m meeting Will here to talk about some spring festival tasks.”
I walk to the front counter and move my bag to the front of my body so I can sort through it to find my wallet. There’s only a journal and my computer in it and it’s still hard to find it.
“Event planning going well?” she asks as she rings me up for a large coffee and the scone of the day.
“Yes, now that you mention it, we were wondering if you’d be willing to have drink specials for that day and have a special raspberry scone available.” She hands me the scone I ordered, and I take a bite immediately, holding in a moan at how delicious it is .
“Oh, of course, honey. Anything for you two.”
“Great, thank you.” I take my black coffee from her before I turn around to find a seat.
I decide on a booth in the back of the shop. There’s enough room on the table to spread out notes and computers, so it’ll make a good work station. Will should be here within the next fifteen minutes, so I’ll check off that I talked to Miss Jane and wait for him before I continue.
My coffee is almost gone, and Will isn’t here yet. He should have been here a half hour ago, but after he didn’t answer my text, I assumed he was busy at work.
If I keep working, he will show, right?
Wrong.
For two more hours I sit in the coffee shop and worked, hoping he will show. Or at least call me to tell me he’s not coming. Except he doesn’t, and now I’m questioning everything.
Why? Not sure. My brain does what it wants sometimes, even though I know I shouldn’t be worrying about anything.
He would never intentionally stand me up, I know that. Not after the past week we’ve had. I decide to gather my stuff and grab him something to drink. It’s easy enough for me to walk the few doors to the record shop, assuming he’s there and not out doing something.
I pull my jacket tight around me to try and fight off some of the wind, but it’s no use. A million questions race through my head as I walk.
I’m frustrated, which only adds to my cadence of steps when I burst through the door.
My mind is decided. I’m going to let him have it. He can’t do whatever he’s doing to me and not show up to a meeting we had planned. If he wants me to trust him, he needs to be there. If he can’t, he needs to own up to it and let me know.
But when I walk in the store, I stop in my tracks.
There’s paper all over the floor.
The desk is covered in sticky notes and printed charts.
And Will is sitting on the floor in front of the desk with his gaze on his feet in front of him.
His head snaps in my direction, and the moment his red and puffy eyes meet mine, I can tell he’s been crying. His hair is more rugged than normal like he has run his hand through it a million times. The leather jacket that he’s normally wearing is off and strung over a stack of records in front of him.
“F-fuck,” he stutters and wipes his eyes with his forearm. “Millie. What time is it? Fuck.” As he stands, papers that were on his lap fall to the floor. Instead of pushing them out of his way to walk over to me, he tramples over them.
I hold the bag of goodies I snagged out to him along with the fresh cup of coffee. All of my previous emotions melted the moment I saw him on the floor, and now I don’t have it in me to be mad at him. I’m upset, sure, a little disappointed, but I’m not mad. Something clearly happened today, and his head isn’t in the right space.
“Those for me?” he asks, running his hand through his hair yet again.
“Yeah, I thought you might have been hard at work.”
He bends over and kisses me on the cheek, then whispers, “Thank you. I’m sorry.”
“I know.” The corners of my mouth lift slightly, and as he turns his back to me, I blink away the few tears threatening to fall. I don’t have a reason to cry other than the fact that seeing this man hurt makes me sad. Will is the strong one.
He’s always been the one to stick up for anyone he loves, and never asks for help. We are alike in that way. It’s one of the things that draws us together time and time again. But because of that, his emotions stay hidden, locked in a chest, and he’s decided to throw the key away.
When things get hard, he shuts down. I’ve only seen it happen a time or two because he always does a great job of hiding it.
But he can’t hide it from me anymore, not after everything.
“What happened?”
Will sniffles and shrugs, then turns back to me and holds out his hands at the papers riddling the floor.
I don’t follow.
He doesn’t explain but turns around again and walks into the back room.
If he didn’t want me to see anything, he would have said so. I make my way to the papers on the ground, kneeling before them. But I still don’t get it.
They appear to be statements? Or bills? Invoices? And there’s a handful of letters. And…
Wait.
I pick up one of the pieces of paper.
Payment late.
And another one.
Payment late.
And another one.
They are all like this. Some are more recent, but others are six months or even a year behind. There are letters from collection companies and from the different vendors asking for payments. There are interest statements that show how much more is owed.
“Grandpa has dementia.”
“I—” I fix my gaze at Will, who’s currently leaning on the frame of the door that separates the back room from the front.
“He wanted to talk yesterday. Didn’t I mention that to you?” Will waits for me to confirm or deny, but I can’t remember. “Anyway, he, um, gave me the store. Always said it was in tip-top shape. ” He laughs and shakes his head .
Will walks over and pushes more papers off the table to make room for him to sit.
“Did you sign already?”
He pulls his lips inward as he dips his head. “I was so fucking excited. Millie, owning this store would mean me staying. Here.”
Will would stay in Willow Pines? What?
“I was so fucking excited,” he says through shaky breaths. “I was getting ready to come tell you, at the coffee shop. But the bank called after my lesson this morning, and normally I’d ignore the call, or hand it over to Grandpa because it wasn’t my job. But I decided to answer on my way out. I’d already looked over Grandpa’s statements and everything looked good. But…” he trails off as more tears fall, and I can’t stay on the floor any longer.
I stand and walk over to him, throwing my arms around his shoulders. He opens his legs and lets me slide in between them, setting his head on my chest and hugging me back.
“The store is in debt. So much debt,” he whispers when he finds the strength to talk. “I don’t know what to do.” He sobs. “Fuck, I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“Will, I’m here for you too, okay? This is a two-way street. Let me be the one you lean on.”
He bobs his head on my chest and takes a few deep breaths.
We stay like this for a few moments before I slide my arms down his back and kiss his forehead. “I’m going to go switch the sign to closed, okay? And lock the door. In case people come shopping.”
Will surprisingly chuckles and says, “Unlikely, since we have hardly had sales, but thank you.”
His gaze stays on the floor, unmoving, as I go lock the door anyway.
Next, I grab the papers on the floor in front of him. Not organized because I don’t know how to organize them, but at least they are in a pile.
Will still hasn’t moved. In fact, he’s slumped over more .
“Okay, come on.” I hold out my hand.
He peeks up and sighs, but eventually he places his hand in mine.
I guide us through the back, shutting off the lights to the store before we head upstairs to his apartment.
The door’s unlocked, so I let us in and walk to the couch.
“Sit,” I say.
“Millie, I’m fine.”
“Let me take care of you, okay?” I ask. “Sit. Let me call in some pizza for dinner. We can decide to talk about it, or ignore it until tomorrow. Okay? Let me be here for you.”
A moment of silence passes before he asks, “Can you text Jere and tell him I won’t be over tonight? We were going to have a game night.”
“That won’t be weird?”
He shakes his head and plops on the couch, throwing his head back. “You’re my girlfriend. It’s not weird.” He grabs a pillow and lays his head on it, which I’m grateful for. He’s likely exhausted from all the emotions from the day.
From excitement to pure dread, his emotional well has to be empty.
So, I do what he needs me to do because I know he’d do the same for me.
I place the order for our dinner, making sure to order his favorite toppings.
Jeremy texts back with a thumbs up and nothing more.
He’s so still when I bring him a glass of water that at first I’m not sure if he’s asleep. He’s not. Instead his eyes are open, and he’s staring at the wall in front of him. I sit in front of his chest on the couch and rub his arm in slow circles.
I remain silent, giving him the space to talk if he wants.
I want to scream from the rooftop that I want him to stay, that I could help him figure it out, and we could finally admit to one another that there is no one else in the world we’d rather be with .
Deep down, there’s only one person in this world that I’m meant to be with, and now might be our chance.
Will sighs and grabs my hand. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the top of my hand.
I hope he has similar thoughts going through his head.
Is he willing to give everything to try to fix the situation so we have a chance? Or will it be too much?