A gamble.
A second act I wasn’t sure I deserved.
Love.
I moved toward the front, looking out the wide windows at the empty street. Buttercup Lake always had this quiet hum, peaceful, but neverdead.Somewhere out there, kids were probably still tossing stones into the lake, a diner buzzed with fresh coffee, and the moon watched it all with the kind of indifference I wished I could fake.
But I couldn’t, because the fear wasn’t just about failing.
It was about failing in front ofher.
Fifi had been all in.
Helping me arrange the shelves. Laughing when I second-guessed my pricing stickers. Bringing me coffee and patience and that kind of wide-eyed belief I didn’t know how to earn.
And what if it all crashed?
What if she were just the next person I disappointed?
The thought settled like lead in my gut.
I reached for my phone. I wasn’t even sure what I planned to do: scroll, text her, stare at the wallpaper of an empty comic panel I never got around to changing, but the screen lit up before I touched it.
One new text from her.
Don’t panic. You’re gonna be great. Even your bobbleheads believe in you.
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I smiled, because somehow, sheknew.
Knew the second the door closed behind her that I’d start to spiral. That the quiet would come for me. That I’d need reminding, gently, but firmly, that this wasn’t a mistake.
This was the start.
And the truth?
Even if the shelves sat empty for a month.
Even if I got pricing wrong or forgot to order the hot summer item—
Even then, it would still be the bravest thing I’d ever done.
And it had nothing to do with action figures.
It had everything to do with her, and I knew I was crazy for not following her out the door, so I grabbed my keys, turned off the lights, and made my way to the car.
My U-Haul was waiting for me at the house, and I’d already procrastinated two days with it sitting in the driveway, still packed up like I’d just pulled in from the long drive.
But it was like the moment I put in my notice at the firm, procrastinating looked good on me. The drive wasn’t far. It would be nearly impossible to pick a house with a bad commute around here.
I smiled at the thought and shook my head as I parked in my driveway, climbed out of the car, and stared at the U-Haul like it was about to spit on me.
But when I walked around the back, I was shocked.
There were only four rows of boxes left inside, each one smugly crammed above the others like a game of emotional Tetris, and all I could think of was why would someone steal my crap?
“So, look who decided to finally show up.” Beck crossed his arms over his chest and grinned.
