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It’s early, before the shop opens, but I check the sign still says closed. I sneak in, press the door gently shut with my hand, and take a deep breath.
“What are you doing here?”
I spin around and flatten my back against the glass. “Oh, hi. I just… wanted… I,” I pull my hands together and wring them. “I haven’t thanked you. And I thought it was time to get out of my room and my head.” I take a step away from the door, severing the support it has given me while standing there.
She opens her arms, and I’m helpless to resist the pull of her offered comfort.
“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay.” She embraces me, and I soak up her warmth. It is everything I need, except the arms that hold me aren’t the ones I crave. “Have you told your mum?” I pull away and take a seat on one of the benches.
“No. And I don’t want anyone to know. Ever. This is something I want to put behind me.” And bury—cut it away and never speak of it again.
“Zennor, that’s a big decision, and you’re still in shock. Grieving, even.” She joins me.
“No, I’m not. How can you grieve for something you didn’t know you had or even loved?” My words make sense, although I’m sure there are people that would argue I don’t know what I’m talking about. But it’s how I feel. These are my feelings—how I want to deal with this.
“Don’t underestimate your feelings, Zennor. You might only be a young woman yourself, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t valid. You can love, and you can feel the loss, just as hard as the rest of us.”
“Thank you,” I look down and twist my hands together. It might be easier to pretend I’m just a silly girl, then the ache in my chest and the hollow feeling in my gut might go away.
“I’ve got to get set up and ready to open. The weather isn’t going to help with trade, so if you want to take the day, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” The rain pelts the windows as it has all week.
“On your own?” I check. I know I might not be good company, but it would be nice to have the distraction of work again.
“Well, Jerry’s coming in for lunch, so we’ll be okay if you want to go. Working long hours is what I signed on for when I brought the place. Being your own boss has benefits, but you have to put in the work. The winter here is the drawback, but you don’t get the highs without the lows. You know this, living here.” She gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hand for a second before heading behind the counter.
I stand and look around the empty store. My empty heart turns to stone as I remember how happy this place once made me. The echoes of the memories with Jayce make me long for a magic clock to rewind time and start the summer all over again.
“Zennor?”
“It’s fine. I can do this.” I clench my jaw tight, staving off the emotion fighting to bubble up.
“You don’t have to. Come back next week.” She rubs my shoulder, but I shrug it off.
“No, I know, but I have to learn, right. It will make me stronger.”
“Don’t think you have to do this on your own. You’re a child.”
“I’m not a child, Molly. You just said so.”
“I’m sorry, Zennor, I just meant…”
“I know what you meant. But this is something I need to get over, and I will. And it starts with confronting where it happened. Here.” I grit.
For the next few weeks, I focus on one thing, putting one foot in front of the other. Get up, go to college, and work as hard as I can so I can accomplish my own dream.
The weather is vicious and rough and keeps my mood company, all dark and stormy. But I keep that to myself, wrapped up in the broken pieces of my heart.
“Oi, sister, mine.” Tegan swings open the door to my room but stands on the other side as if waiting to be invited to cross the threshold. If this were a few weeks ago, she’d have bounded in and jumped on my bed without a second thought.
“These came.” She tosses a few scraps of cards towards me, and I lift my head from my textbooks to watch as they scatter across the floor.
“What are they?”
“Postcards from lover boy.”
“Jayce?” The question in my voice chips away at the work I’ve put in to keep everything that’s happened since the summer behind me. I’ve stopped visiting the library since my trip to the hospital—no more checks of my empty inbox. If I tried to write to him again now, I’d be lost as to where to start. My feelings are all twisted up. The time to seize that opportunity is lost. This doesn’t change anything.
It doesn’t.
