21. Lily
Chapter 21
Lily
T here had been countless times in my life when I’d sat back, sighed, and thought to myself, “If only my life were a romance novel.”
Right now, though, as I slumped over my desk in the back room of Happy Ever Affogato, I found myself wishing for something else.
“If only my life were a horror novel.”
The trouble with romance novels was that they were complicated. Even the ones with the sweetest set-ups had that difficult stuff in the middle. Tricksy stuff. Third-act breakups. Dark nights of the soul. Heroines and heroes with big decisions to make. Emotional wounds to heal. You had to watch them really go through the wringer before they found their way back to happiness. And often, happiness looked nothing like they imagined it would at the start.
Horror novels, on the other hand, were simple.
There’s a bad guy? Run away.
There’s a ghost? Exorcize it.
There’s a vampire? Okay, with a vampire, you might actually want to have sex with him because vampires were kinda hot. And werewolves, actually. Ever since Ethan told me he was a werewolf, I’ve had a thing for them, too. Come to think of it, a lot of monsters were in fact extremely sexy.
But normally, in horror stories, monsters just ended up killing you. And the good thing about that was at least you could predict it. Which meant that to save yourself a ton of heartache, you knew you just needed to run away from the start.
“Focus!” I chided myself. I wasn’t meant to be thinking about romance or whether to kiss, marry, or kill vampires.
I was meant to be preparing for my imminent interview with Coco Brookes from Brookes Books, one of New York’s most prestigious—and nepotistic—literary agencies, for the position of Head of Horror.
I’d devoured a stack of horror novels by now, dissecting trends in the genre like a mad scientist. What makes a good horror novel tick? The structure, the tropes, the characters—I’d pieced together a basic understanding, but deep down, I felt like a romance writer treading water in a sea of blood and gore.
I took another swig of coffee, grimacing. In my rush this morning, I’d brewed a watery excuse for an Americano. No time for a do-over, though. The bitter taste lingered on my tongue, matching my mood.
The store stood empty, thankfully. A romance bookshop owner hunched over The Curse of the Brain-Eating Zombie wasn’t exactly on-brand.
My eyes ping-ponged between the pages and the wall clock. I tried to focus on the author’s masterful description of brains being gobbled up—the horrific squelching noises practically echoing in my ears. But my mind kept drifting, like a distracted zombie searching for its next meal.
Ethan.
The wedding.
Ethan.
Ava.
Ethan.
His piercing blue eyes and that stubborn lock of jet-black hair that always fell across his forehead.
I sighed, pushing my glasses up my nose. “Think horror. Think death. Think destruction. Not tall, dark, emotionally confusing mechanics.”
But it was useless. I couldn’t get the memory of him at the wedding out of my head. Looking at me as he gave the speech, seeming as though he was about to say something extremely profound before completely shutting down.
And then, he’d called our night of big feelings a “mistake.”
It hadn’t felt like a mistake. It had felt like finally, things were falling into place. But now, it seemed, they were falling apart.
Adding to my anxiety today was Ava. She was having her dyslexia test at school. I’d stressed to her this morning that it wasn’t a test that she could pass or fail, but the poor thing had been so nervous.
“Lily,” she’d said to me, “do you think I’ll ever be able to read properly when I’m older? You know, without colored overlays and without stumbling over my words. So that I can read big grown-up books like The Romance of Red Robin ?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I didn’t like to tell her because I didn’t want to crush her confidence. “Of course,” I had replied. “You’ll be able to read anything you like once we figure out what you need, and you put in the practice.”
I was looking forward to seeing her this afternoon. I had bought her a nature book about robins as a gift to try to play to her current interests.
My phone buzzed, and for a split second, my heart leaped, hoping it was Ethan. But no, it was just a reminder about my upcoming interview.
“Ugh,” I groaned, resting my forehead on the cool wood of the store counter. “Why did I have to go and complicate things?” I should have presented Ethan with those rules and then stuck to them. Slept in my own bed. Avoided slow dancing at all costs.
“Maybe I should just become a nun,” I mused aloud, twirling a strand of my red hair around my finger. “An evil, horrifying, serial-killer nun.”
I didn’t have time for this. I sighed, closing up the store for the afternoon, and then I went into the back room of my store and shoved a load of horror novels on the shelves behind me to create a suitably spooky backdrop for my video interview.
“All right, let’s get this show on the road,” I muttered, adjusting my laptop’s camera angle. I didn’t look too bad. Makeup was fine. Hair, okay. But there was definitely sadness behind my eyes. Just as I was about to start a practice run, my phone buzzed.
This time, my heart skipped a beat. Ethan.
Good luck today, Lils. You’ll slay ‘em. (Horror joke). Be good to catch up tonight, if you’re free.
I typed back immediately.
I’m so nervous! Haven’t had an interview since college. I’d love to catch up tonight.
I felt better about everything immediately. I’d have my interview, go celebrate (or commiserate) with a pastry at O’Neil’s afterward, then pick up Ava from school before seeing Ethan later on.
The chime of an incoming video call jolted me back to reality. I smoothed my hair, took a deep breath, and clicked the green button.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Lane,” a woman with a razor-sharp blonde bob and precision-cut bangs greeted me. Her scarlet lipstick was so glossy it was practically a mirror. “I’m Coco Brookes. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She smiled and her teeth looked expensive. “I’ve heard all about you from Mary-Beth.”
I smiled. “Hopefully it’s all good.”
“Oh, it’s very good. What you did at that wedding, to that cheating fiancé of yours, with the circus music? Classic. And I’ve seen photographs of your bookstore. It looks charming.”
“I’m very proud of the place.”
“As you should be. So! Can you tell me a little about your experience running the bookstore? Some challenges you’ve faced, how you overcame them?”
I took a deep breath.
“Happy Ever Affogato has always been a passion project. My hometown, Bluehaven Beach, is a picturesque, dreamy place, and I always thought a romance store would work well here. But it hasn’t always been plain sailing.” I told Coco about the difficulty of finding a location for the store, and how it had been tricky, initially, to convince the bank that a romance-exclusive store could turn a profit. “I guess the key has always been to know your market,” I told her, smiling confidently. “Whatever genre you work in, you have to know it inside-out.”
I swallowed away a pang of nerves.
Please don’t ask me if I know the horror genre inside-out .
Coco leaned closer to the camera. “Can I ask a candid question, Ms. Lane? Why not consider working as a romance agent? Romance is a hugely profitable genre, with huge scope for new agents.”
I breathed in deeply. “Well, it’s a little complicated.” Visions of Vlad and Ethan flashed through my mind, unbidden, “I’ve, sort of, fallen out of love with romance.”
“How so?”
“This is going to sound strange, but I’m trying to be honest. As you know, I was engaged to be married. It felt like a fairytale, right until I discovered that my fiancé was cheating on me. Ever since then, I’ve found the idea of a happy ever after to be . . . excuse my French, bull-shit.”
Coco smiled. She looked impressed. “I understand. As someone who’s currently going through a divorce, I feel the same way. Although, I can assure you, this messy process has convinced me that horror is very, very real.”
I laughed. “I know what you mean.”
“So, tell me about your favorite horror novels!”
I rattled off a few of the contemporary novels I’d read recently, as well as some classics. Dracula , Frankenstein , Salem’s Lot . In fact, I’d only read the first quarter of Salem’s Lot because it had scared the bejeezus out of me.
Coco tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “Interesting that you could make an argument that all three of those classics you just mentioned are romance novels, don’t you think?”
“Well, yes,” I said. “I guess you’ve got your classic monster tropes, along with enemies to lovers and small-town romance in Salem’s Lot,” I reeled off a few more comparisons without even thinking.
Coco chuckled. “You’ve got a knack for finding romance in the darkest places. That’s quite a talent.”
“I suppose. Both horror and romance are about human connection, emotion, and the complexity of relationships.”
“I hear that.”
I nodded slowly, feeling a sense of clarity washing over me.
“Maybe you haven’t fallen out of love with romance, Lily,” said Coco with a shrug. “Maybe, in the right context, you can enjoy romance again.”
I smiled. “A new context? Like within horror fiction?”
Or within the right relationship.
“Exactly. I’m really excited about books that blend genres, and I’d be very interested in you exploring horror novels that incorporate romance tropes. I think there could be a huge market out there for books like that. Now, what would you hope to achieve in your first year as a horror agent?”
Coco steepled her fingers and smiled. “I want to thank you for your time, Lily. It’s been a very productive conversation. Now, before we wrap up, I want to discuss compensation. I understand you’re looking for remote work, which we can accommodate. However, I want to be transparent about our salary structure. We offer $50,000 annually to our remote workers, but for in-office positions, the starting salary is $60,000.”Sixty thousand? That was twice what I was making at the store. More than twice.“In addition to the higher salary, being in the office would allow you to fully integrate with the team, attend our industry events, and meet a wide range of authors. We also offer comprehensive benefits, including health insurance and a retirement savings plan. And,” she added with a slight smile, “you’d get to experience some of our office traditions, like our end-of-week team celebrations.”
My heart raced at the possibility. New York? Away from Bluehaven Beach, away from Ethan and Ava? But maybe a new context was what I needed.
“That’s . . . that’s certainly something to consider,” I managed to say, my mind whirling with possibilities and doubts.
“Good. If you want it, the job’s yours.”
I slumped back in my chair, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I felt so happy that I hadn’t embarrassed myself, but I was left feeling even more uncertain about my career path.
My phone buzzed with a message from Mary-Beth.
Coco is raving about you! You’re a fucking rock star, Lily.
I sent back a heart emoji. Followed by a zombie emoji.
Then I closed my eyes and tried to quiet my mind. I wished life was straightforward. I wished I had no emotional wounds, no difficult decisions to make.
If only my life were a horror novel.
***
As I pulled up outside Bluehaven Elementary, I spotted Ava immediately. She was waiting by the curb, her short black hair ruffled by the sea breeze.
My heart did a little flip at the sight of her.
“Hey, bookworm!” I called as she climbed into the car. “So? How’d it go?”
“At the start, I was so nervous,” she said, turning to me with wide eyes. “But it was actually kinda fun! I had to repeat words back but different?”
“Different?”
“Like I had to say ‘cupcake’ but without the ‘cup’ part.”
“Ooh, “cake.” That sounds good. Elara would be a fan.”
Ava laughed. “Then I had to repeat nonsense words, which was so funny. I kept laughing but they didn’t mind.”
Ava strapped herself in, and I started the car. As we drove, Ava launched into more detailed descriptions of the test. Her memory was incredible. Kids were always so present, really taking in everything that was going on. It all made my chest tighten with an unexpected surge of affection.
Suddenly, the reality of potentially leaving for New York hit me like a ton of bricks. How could I possibly leave this little girl behind? The thought of not being there for her daily triumphs and struggles made my stomach churn.
“Lily?” Ava’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Are you okay? You look weird.”
I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as shaky as it felt. “I’m fine, sweetie. Just thinking.”
“Grown-up stuff?” she asked, her tone skeptical.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. How could I explain to this eight-year-old that I was terrified of how much I cared about her? That the thought of leaving her behind for a fancy job in New York made me feel like my heart was being ripped in two?
As we pulled up to Ethan’s house, I took a deep breath. “Hey, Ava? You know I care about you a lot, right?”
She rolled her eyes, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips. “Duh, Lily. It’s super obvious. You’re, like, always making googly eyes at me.”
I laughed, the knot in my chest loosening just a bit. “Sorry for the googly eyes.”
“I like them.” Ava grinned mischievously. She pulled her eyes wide open with her fingers. Then, with a giggle, she crossed her eyes, her tongue poking out for good measure.
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
“You know what?” she said, her voice suddenly small. “You remind me of Miss Honey. The teacher in Matilda .”
My heart swelled. “I do?”
“She’s so kind. She believes in Matilda. And she’s pretty.”
“That’s very sweet,” I managed, just about holding it together.
We went into the house, where we were greeted by an excited Ethan. He asked tons of questions about Ava’s test. Although Ethan was always happy to see Ava, he seemed particularly pleased tonight. He laughed at the made-up words she told him and let her know how proud of her he was for taking the test.
He asked about my interview, too. He’d even prepared a special horror-themed dinner to commemorate the event. As we sat down at the table, I couldn’t help but smile at his efforts.
Ethan had whipped up a “Mummy Dogs” platter: hot dogs wrapped in strips of croissant dough to look like bandages, with little dabs of ketchup for eyes. Alongside, he’d arranged a bowl of “Witches’ Fingers”—celery sticks filled with cream cheese and topped with an almond “nail.” For dessert, he proudly presented “Dirt Cups”—chocolate pudding topped with crushed Oreos and gummy worms.
“And to wash it all down,” he said with a grin, “I’ve got some ‘Blood Punch.’ It’s just fruit punch, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”
I told Ethan and Ava that the interview had gone well, but that I had a lot to think about. I didn’t mention that I’d actually been offered the position, or that Coco had promised me a higher salary and a ton of perks if I moved to New York.
After dinner, we put Ava to bed, then Ethan led me to the living room. “Want something to drink? Beer, wine?”
“No thanks,” I said. “Been laying off it since the double whammy of the bachelorette party and wedding.”
“Right. Pretty heavy, huh?”
“Heavy is right.”
He paused for a moment. “Lils, I’ve got some good news.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “We’ve been struggling to keep things, you know, feelings-less . Haven’t we?”
That was one way to put it. “Mmhmm.”
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot since the wedding. I think I’ve got the solution.”
“Okay.”
“I think our problem is that we’ve been living together. This crazy forced proximity thing that we have going on, it makes you . . . feel things that aren’t necessarily real. Or maybe they’re a bit real, but they feel so much stronger because we can’t get away from each other.”
My head was spinning. All I could manage was: “Okay.”
“Susie has agreed to stay over with Ava while I’m on call with the fire service.”
I felt like I was drowning. I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “What about Ava?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, what’s my role with her now?”
Ethan’s eyes softened. “Don’t worry, Lils, I’ll still pay you—”
“Pay me?” I almost screamed the words. “You think I care about the money?”
“You’re upset?” He looked genuinely stunned.
“I don’t know. I care about Ava. I care about you.”
“I understand. I want to keep seeing you.”
“You’re firing me as Ava’s nanny? And you want me to move out and be your fuck buddy who you pay?”
“Look, I just think . . . maybe we should have a more traditional arrangement. You know, where you don’t live here. It’s the reason we keep breaking the rules.”
“It’s not.” I swallowed. “It’s not the reason we broke the rules at the party. It’s not the reason I slept in your bed. It’s not the reason we talked about our feelings.”
“Right, we were drunk.”
“No.” I shook my head. “We did that stuff because there is something between us. And you’re too scared to admit it.”
He paused for a moment. “So, you’re not willing to give this a try?”
“Give what a try?”
“This. Changing the game plan. Guarding our hearts.”
“The game plan, Ethan?” I started pacing around the room. “This isn’t a game anymore. You can try and pretend that something isn’t going on between us, but there is. It’s not just sex. It’s not just two broken people comforting each other. This is more than that.”
Ethan grabbed hold of my shoulders and turned me around to face him. “What is it, then?”
Suddenly, it hit me. It was so blindingly obvious. I couldn’t pretend for another minute. So, I simply said it. “It’s love.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I love you.” It was so simple. So true. “I love Ava and I love you. I’m mad at myself for loving you, but I can’t help it.”
Ethan looked stunned. Then, for a moment, it looked almost as though he was going to cry. He blinked. Clenched his jaw. Let go of my shoulders. “I . . . I can’t give you what you need. I can’t risk it.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“You want a fairy tale, Lily. Hell, you deserve one.”
I folded my arms, trying to literally shield my heart from more pain. “Fairy tales don’t exist.”
“Look,” he said. “I don’t want to lose what we’ve got. If we can get the no-strings agreement, then it will work out great for both of us. But if we’re not careful. . . .”
For the first time, it suddenly felt like there was a thick pane of glass between us. So thick that I could barely hear Ethan through it.
I could no longer meet his eyes. Our bodies were close, but we might as well have been worlds apart. “I’m leaving.”
“So, you’re moving out?”
“I’m moving to New York. They offered me a full-time agent position, and I’m taking it.”
“What about your store? What about me? What are you talking about, Lily? One minute you’re saying you love me, and the next—”
“Do you know how unfair you’re being right now?”
“You’re abandoning us.”
“Abandoning you? I’m telling you that I love you. But if you don’t love me back—”
He held his hands up over his face. “I can’t. This wasn’t the plan. I can’t do it.”
“I understand.” Somehow, I didn’t cry. “Well. I’m going to pack.”
“I told you, Lily. I’m broken.”
“You think you are, but you’re not.”
As I climbed the stairs to my room—no, not my room anymore—I felt like I was walking through molasses. Each step was a battle against the weight of my breaking heart.
I grabbed my suitcase from the closet and started haphazardly throwing clothes in. My hands were shaking, and I knocked over a stack of books on the nightstand.
“Shit,” I muttered, bending to pick them up. That’s when I saw it—a photo that had fallen out from between the pages. My breath caught in my throat as I picked it up.
It was us. Me, Ethan, and Ava, the night we’d seen the shooting star. I’d printed out the shots of the stars for Ava’s school project, but I’d printed this one out, too. Ava was snuggled between the two of us. Ethan had a ridiculous look of surprise on his face because he had no idea Ava was taking a photo. I was on the other side of Ava, grinning. We looked blurry, but . . . happy. Like a family.
Tears filled my eyes. “Oh, god,” I whispered, sinking onto the bed. The realization hit me like a tidal wave—this wasn’t just about leaving a job or a house. I was losing the family I’d grown to love.
I’d been convinced that Ethan was different.
But I’d been wrong.
Just like Vlad, he didn’t want me. I should have been stronger. I should have known better.
Never. Again.
I didn’t see Ethan on the way out. I kept my eyes ahead, looking into the future. It felt empty.