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I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she knocked shoulders with her father and he wrapped his arms around her, telling her something.

It was astonishing how every time I watched her now, it seemed to be in slow motion, my eye wanting to capture every one of her facial expressions, her voice, her movements, to save her in my memory forever. It made me wonder:

How did I get here?

When did I start falling for her so badly?

Is that even what I am doing, falling?

And, most importantly, is she too?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Six Littl

e Words

Eli

I was sitting on the porch when a beer materialized right beside my face.

“Thank you,” I said to Masoa.

He sat down beside me, not saying a word.

It was our last night there before heading back. They had prepared a dinner by the lake, and I had even managed to get the campfire going. Just like on the first night, the sky was coated with stars.

Guinevere played with Taigi, chasing him around the campfire. She had spent the day showing me all of Cypress. It had about one of everything: one movie theater, one grocery store, one mall, and in each one, I noticed how they all welcomed her back, either with a hug, a kiss, or free things. Each of them also thanked her for the money she had loaned them; she had even helped fund a new arts center for the high school.

“You do know I still don’t like you, right?” he said to me, opening his can and drawing my attention.

“Yes. Maybe when we come again next time, I’ll convince you more,” I replied, taking a drink.

“Never going to happen,” he muttered.

It took me some time, but I finally just asked him, “Do you mind if I ask you some things?”

“Are they about my daughter?”

“Yes. And you, too.”

“Only if you answer mine.”

Risky. “All right.”

“Ask, then.” He waited.

“How do you know when you’ve fallen in love with someone?”

He was silent for a long time.

“Sorry, I’m not sure who else to ask. My mother, as amazing as she is, doesn’t always help.”

“Weren’t you about to get married?’ he asked me.

I sat straighter, my arms on my knees. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I should have been. I set a goal to be married, and I chose a person who I thought best fit what I needed. I never asked myself if I loved her. I thought: this is great, she is what I was looking for. I hurt her and she hurt me in return.” I had cared about Hannah. I couldn’t lie about that, nor should I have had to, but that was different; I felt different with Guinevere.

“I believe when you start thinking like that, you’ve already fallen,” he muttered.

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