31. Will
CHAPTER 31
Will
S omehow it’s already the middle of March and there’s a month left until the event. Millie has given me space to figure everything out over the last three weeks, but we left our relationship in such a mixed state that neither of us know what to do about it.
When she tries to get me to talk about what happened, why my mood fluctuates like a roller coaster, I freeze. I should want to tell her, to let her help. But I am someone who’s been so used to handling things by myself for so long. I didn’t want her to know. The burden is too heavy. It’s something I want to figure out and solve by myself. Especially with knowing that Kristie might be staying, since she’s been hired by Millie, what am I going to do?
We have to talk about this damn event, which has always been on the back burner. It’s not something I wanted to do before, and I sure as hell don’t want to do it now.
But here we are.
When we enter Rose she’s typing her anger out, likely on to a list of items left to do.
“I don’t have anything else more pressing, Millie,” I say sternly.
“You sure?” Millie says with added sass.
“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth even though it’s a lie. I would love to figure out how to pay for the store, how to not lose everything my grandpa has worked for, how to support Kristie through this transition and show her that I could be there for her, and not be the same as my asshole father. She deserves an older brother who can support her.
“Great. ”
For the next three hours, we work.
We ignore everything else going on and comb through every single event detail.
The vendor list is done, and everyone is confirmed. There will be booths and tables on either side of Main Street and barriers to block off any traffic. The booths are for the winery and anyone else that wants additional space besides their store.
We have music provided by my store.
There will be lights strung by volunteers, little heart lights that Millie ordered online to be here in time.
For the signage, we hired a local artist to design the poster which will be used to plaster everywhere both online and around town.
Food for the event will be provided by Miss Jane’s and Jeremy’s bar, which will also be providing drinks.
Millie shuts her computer and the event is officially planned.
“Well, I’m exhausted now,” Millie says, slumping into her chair.
Her mom and Kristie said bye thirty minutes ago, so we’ve had the store alone for some time. And we have been working non-stop for the past few hours, ironing out all the details. It needed to be done, and now that it is, my mental load is lighter.
Not that the event was heavy by any means; Millie is carrying most of that weight, but it was one other thing that I had to worry about.
I close the folder that is now full of paper on my lap and stand to walk around the desk to where Millie currently has her eyes closed. She’s so perfect, and I don’t tell her enough.
My hands find her shoulders as I step behind her. She doesn’t fight me. She’s as exhausted as I am. Instead she moves her head side to side as I push my thumbs into the backs of her shoulders.
“You don’t have to do this,” she mumbles, but it comes out light and airy .
“I want to do this. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” I say, trying to find the courage to confide in her.
If there’s one person I can tell, I know it’s her. Telling her won’t mean it reaches the ears of everyone around town. It would stay with her, and she could give me advice.
She doesn’t respond to my apology because it’s a shit apology. I don’t blame her. Our relationship has been confusing, even ten years ago when we were young and naive.
Well, fuck, here goes nothing.
“I had a meeting with the bank a few weeks ago.” My hands are still on her shoulders and her eyes snap open, searching for mine.
“And?”
I shake my head. “Not good. I’ve been weighing all my options before I mentioned it, hoping I could find a way out.”
“Will…” Millie twists in her chair, and I take a step back to let her. She turns around, facing me, looking at me with sadness in her eyes.
“It’ll be fine.” I bob my head, trying to convince myself that the words that I’m saying are true. It’ll be fine, because if it’s not, I have a huge fucking problem to deal with.
“They can’t help?”
“They…did already.”
“Your grandpa already got help?” she asks, the hesitation in her voice obvious as her gaze drops and she fidgets in her seat.
I’m thankful at this moment for the pile of boxes behind me because it gives me a place to rest as I answer her questions. I tell her how Grandpa has a loan out, a loan that is also behind on payments, a loan that prevents me from taking out my own loan. I tell her how I haven’t been able to talk to him about it because doing so will require me to talk to him about his dementia. And how the last time I told him he forgot something, he seemed so hurt. Like he didn’t remember it happened and thought I was angry at him.
She sits there as I explain what’s been happening. At one point, she reaches forward to grab my hands, which helps ground me in her. She’s the anchor keeping me from floating out to sea. She’s my North Star when I’ve found myself lost and unsure of where to go.
And to put her through all of this is slowly killing me. It’s not that Millie is some random girl that I fell in love with quickly. That might be easier. It’d hurt less.
No, I’ve had decades to fall head over heels in love. Our love has had time to simmer until it’s the perfect mixture of everything we’ve been through. Growing up with her is a core memory, kissing her is a core memory, telling her I love her will be a core fucking memory if we can get to that point.
If I can figure my shit out, figure out what’s next, I’ll be able to have her.
I’ll deserve her.
Because fuck, she doesn’t deserve this mess.
Even if she denies it, it’s not…it’s not something I need her to deal with. Not when I know there are other people out there that would be able to be the solid rock she needs. Not like fucking kinetic sand that feels solid until some of the pieces filter out and it all falls apart.
“We will figure it out.” Millie grips my hands tight.
And I want to scream at her. Tell her it’s not her burden. But she’s looking at me with so much hope that I can’t.
Because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll lose her for good.