I just wasn’t sure how to ignore the way my body was reacting. The constant awareness, the tension radiating out of every pore. I felt like I was on alert for danger, flooded with adrenaline as if this were a hostage situation and not simply a downtown street fair.
It wasn’t even rational. I knew most of the folks weaving in and out of booths and shopping along Main Street were tourists. But rational didn’t matter in the face of my fear.
Yes, I was used to avoiding the whispers and the stares and the attention from the people Ididrecognize. I typically just pushed it all down. But with Candace, it was different. When the rumors and gossip only affected me, I could ignore them. But now...I had her to think about. I was conscious of every lingering look and worried about all of it.
“How about Apollo’s? I could go for some pizza,” she offered. Her hand slipped down the length of my arm and she laced her fingers through mine.
I nodded, the motion jerky. “Sure.”
We only had to walk two blocks to get to the Greek restaurant. I steered Candace gently away from the booths on the street—too many recognizable faces.
When we stepped inside Apollo’s, I couldn’t even appreciate the scent of bread and garlic. The restaurant was packed with people and, in the center, was a large party. It looked like four tables had all been pushed together to make room for the group of women laughing and talking. There sat Vera Sterling and Sheila Jessup with ten or twelve other women from the church.
My hand slipped from Candace’s grasp.
The hostess was busy seating the folks in front of us.
Candace frowned at the group of women. “Isn’t that?—”
“I need to go,” I blurted as self-preservation—along with a healthy dose of cowardice—kicked in.
She spun to face me, concern etched into every line of her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just—I just don’t want to eat here.”
Her hazel eyes searched my face, then dropped to my chest where my breaths were coming fast. Hell, maybe she could see the way my heart pounded in my chest too.
After a quick moment that felt like a lifetime, Candace nodded.
When we reached the sidewalk, I sucked in the cool mountain air, trying desperately to clear my head. My feet carried me on autopilot toward the parking garage. Candace and I walked to my truck, not touching, not speaking. No taking a meandering path to peek in booths or to look at ornaments or hand-carved bowls.
Candace stayed silent on the drive to my house, and I wasn’t capable of talking. My hands stayed white-knuckled on the steering wheel as my breathing gradually slowed and the panic receded.
By the time I turned onto my dead-end road, my muscles had relaxed, but the silence inside the cab felt thick and weighty. Candace wasn’t looking at me, her stare focused on the closed garage door as we idled in my driveway.
I knew I needed to say something—to explain myself—but it still took a few minutes for the words to come. “I’m sorry. I know—I know I handled that badly.”
“Can you explain it to me, Mark? I don’t know what I did wrong.”
My gaze snapped to her, but she was still facing forward, worrying her bottom lip. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Candace. It’s just...me. My fears and my hang-ups. I’ve been avoiding people and places like that for so long. I think it’s just going to take me time to get used to it.”
“Time to get used to being with me, where people can see us?”
“It was one thing when it was just me I had to think about. But now there’s you, and I feel like I’m”—I paused, searching for the right words—“like I’m sullyingyour good name. Like Sheila Jessup is going to share a picture of us holding hands in the Kirby Falls Facebook group and people are going to wonder what the hell you’re doing with the town pariah.”
“Mark,” she sighed. Candace reached for my hand, but my fists were clenched again. She simply laid her palm on top of my knuckles, giving me warmth and comfort even when I didn’t know how to accept it.
“You’re not the town pariah,” she argued. “You were forced into an impossible situation and now nosy gossips want to judge you without knowing the truth. If you can ignore them, I can too. I know who you really are. Their whispers and stares and stupid Facebook group aren’t going to scare me off.”
My hand had loosened as she spoke and now her fingers were wrapped protectively around mine.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” I said quietly. “I wanted you to have fun.”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have pushed. It’s okay to need time. To adjust.”
I was grateful for her patience and her understanding, but after tonight’s failure, I felt broken beyond repair. How long would she be willing to wait on me to go to a movie together, to hold her hand on Main Street, to walk her down the damn aisle? It wasn’t fair. My weakness shouldn’t affect Candace and the life she hoped to lead—one that any normal person in a relationship would want.
“I just don’t want you to feel like you need to defend my honor, Mark. The people who would gossip about you—about us—do not matter. There’s freedom in not giving a fuck.” She laughed quietly, and I did too.
