Page 111 of The Story Between Us

He didn’t say anything. Just reached over and twined his fingers with hers, slowly, deliberately, like he was giving her time to pull away.

She didn’t pull away.

They sat like that for a long time, watching the fire, not talking. Around them, the festival continued its gentle wind down. Kids fell asleep on their parents’ shoulders. Couples drifted home. The band packed up their instruments. And still they sat, hand in hand, while the fire burned lower and the stars grew brighter.

“We should probably head back,” Nate finally said.

“Probably.”

Neither of them moved.

He laughed—soft, a little self-conscious. “I don’t want this night to end.”

“Neither do I.”

He squeezed her hand. “Then let’s walk slowly.”

Darkness shrouded the path along the lake, lit only by moonlight and the distant glow of cottage windows. Leaves crunched under their feet. The air smelled like fall and the particular scent of a Minnesota autumn, earthy and sweet.

He still held her hand.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Nate said as they walked. “About seeing you. About paying attention.”

“I believe you.”

“Do you?” He glanced at her. “Because I’m not sure you know how to be seen. You’re so used to being the one in the background. The one who helps, who supports, who holds everyone else up while pretending you don’t need anything yourself.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. It was too accurate. Too close to the thing she’d been hiding from for most of her life.

“Emma was like that,” he continued. “At first. Before she got sick, before everything changed, she was always taking care of people. Me especially. And then she couldn’t anymore, and she had to learn to let people take care of her.” A pause. “It was hard for her. But she did it. And I think…I think she was happier in the end. Not because she was sick, but because she finally let herself be loved without earning it.”

Livvie’s throat tightened. “I’m not very good at that,” she admitted.

“I know. Neither am I.” He stopped walking. They’d reached Aunt Lila’s cottage—warm light glowing in the windows, the coral-pink siding soft in the moonlight. “But maybe we could practice. Together.”

She turned to face him. He was standing very close, still holding her hand, his expression serious.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “Tonight. And…every day. For all of it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I want to.” He smiled slightly. “See? We both have things to practice.”

The night was quiet around them. The leaves rustled in a breeze that smelled like frost and dying fires.

“That night on the dock,” Nate said.

Livvie’s heart stuttered. “What?”

“Seven years ago. You were twenty, I was twenty-two. Emma had just finished treatment and you came to stay with your aunt, and we ended up talking until three in the morning.”

“I remember.”

“I almost kissed you.”

She couldn’t breathe. “I know.”

“I wanted to. Wow, I wanted to.” He was looking at her with an intensity that made her knees weak. “But you were so vulnerable. You were grieving your mother. You were Emma’s friend. I had a hundred reasons not to.”