June turned to look at her, and in the darkness her eyes were luminous, reflecting the distant lights of the festival. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do.” Melissa held her gaze. “I left my marriage when staying would have been easier. When staying would have let me pretend that everything was fine, that I could make it work through sheer force of will. Ending it meant admitting failure. But it was still the right choice.”
“What made you finally do it?”
The question was soft, intimate. Melissa was aware of how close they were—Lila asleep now against her side, June leaning in to hear her answer, their faces inches apart in the darkness.
“I realized I was modeling something for Lila that I didn’t want her to learn. That relationships were about endurance instead of joy. That you stayed with someone because you’d committed, not because you were happy.” Melissa’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want her to grow up thinking that was normal. Yes, a relationship takes work, but it shouldn’t feel like love itself is constant work.”
“And now? Do you think you could be happy? With someone?”
Melissa’s breath caught. The question hung between them, weighted with something neither of them was acknowledging.
Before she could answer, the first firework exploded overhead.
Lila jerked awake. “It’s starting!”
The sky erupted in color—red and gold and silver, blooms of light expanding and fading against the black canvas of night. Lila gasped and pointed, her tiredness forgotten, and Melissa watched the fireworks paint shifting patterns above them.
But she was aware, achingly aware, of June beside her. The scent of her hair—something herbal, like rosemary and mint—drifting on the night air. The way she’d tilted her head back to watch the sky, exposing the pale column of her throat. Thesoft sound of her breath, catching each time a spectacular burst illuminated the darkness.
She’s too young, Melissa thought.She’s an employee. She’s—
June turned to say something, and found Melissa looking at her.
They both froze.
The fireworks continued overhead, explosions of color and sound, but Melissa couldn’t look away. June’s face was painted in shifting light—red, then gold, then silver—her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. She looked expectant.
She lookedbeautiful.
Melissa didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe.
I should look away. I should—
But she couldn’t. She was caught in the moment, suspended between one heartbeat and the next, while the sky exploded above them and her daughter watched the sparkles and June looked at her with an expression that made Melissa’s chest ache.
The finale started—a rapid barrage of light and sound, the crowd cheering—and the spell broke. June blinked, looked away, applauded with everyone else.
“That was amazing,” she said, her voice unsteady.
“It was.”
“That was so awesome!” Lila said, voice filled with wonder. “Why don’t they do that every day? They should.”
“If it were every day, it wouldn’t be special,” Melissa said, getting her breathing under control again.
They walked back to the car in silence, June carrying their bag, Melissa holding Lila’s hand. The festival was winding down around them, families streaming toward the parking lots, children clutching glow sticks and remnants of cotton candy.
Lila settled into her seat, and Melissa kissed her forehead.
June was already in the passenger seat when Melissa climbed behind the wheel. The car was quiet, intimate after the noise ofthe festival, and it took only a few minutes before Lila was asleep in the backseat. She and June were alone, and whatever had passed between them during the fireworks was still hovering in the air, unacknowledged.
The drive home was longer than it usually was—twenty-five minutes through lots of traffic, everyone else leaving at the same time as them, until they got closer to home when it all turned into quiet streets and dark houses. Neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it was heavy. Full of things unsaid.
When they pulled into the driveway, June finally broke the quiet.
“Today was lovely. Thank you for letting me tag along.”
