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Through my peripheral vision, I see the camera crew panning out to take in the venue, and I step closer to explain myself. “I understand what it is to be too close to something and realizing that it’s just a disappointment.”
Her frown deepens, dark eyes clouding. “Do you mean me?” she asks, sounding upset.
“No. Not you… not exactly.”
Stella draws back, and I recognize that I’m not explaining myself properly, but as I reach for her hand, the cameras are back on us.
“Show me more,” she encourages, drawing me away from them and toward a tight corner where they’ll have difficulty getting through.
We gather around an old copy of an obscure poetry book which Stella tries to read, but the words are smeared, the old typewriting blurry.
“You think I’ll disappoint you?” she asks when she’s sure the others are out of earshot. “Why?”
“No,” I correct her. “I don’t think you will. I think this situation is tricky.”
Her head raises, her eyes boring into mine. “Do the others feel the same?”
I exhale. “I really don’t know, Stella.”
“Do you want this to work?”
Without hesitation, I step in closer to indicate to her that I’m serious. “I don’t connect easily with people, Stella, and in this setting, it’s almost impossible to forge a relationship, especially the way we’re doing it.”
She shifts her weight uncomfortably and looks toward the cameras, the extended mic reaching for us to catch snatches of our conversation.
“We should discuss this more when we get home,” she murmurs, and I agree, taking a step back.
“Are you familiar with Telfourd’s works?” I ask, looking toward the book in front of us.
“No… butTragediesdoesn’t sound like a very uplifting name.”
“It’s not,” I concede. “Do you like poetry?”
“The little that I’ve read. I’m more a fan of Whitman than Poe,” she confesses, and I feel my heart tighten as I again stare at her in awe.
Where has she come from? Is she for real?
“When this is all over, you can come and check out my library,” I promise her.
Stella’s eyes widen hopefully. “You have a library? In your house?”
“It’s where I spend most of my time, honestly. There’s a sense of peace, being around all those pages.”
She bobs her head in agreement. “I know what you mean. When I was a kid, the library was one of the only free places I could go to escape. Just walking inside was a sense of freedom, like you could walk into whole other worlds.”
Our eyes lock again, and I’m consumed with the idea that I’m falling in love with her.
I’m not sure I’m going to make it through these final nine days in the cabin. I just want it all to be over, to take Stella back to my place and hide out with her in the privacy of our library forever.
“Stella,” I say, but she doesn’t let me finish my thought.
“I love you, Bennet.”
My pulse quickens at her sweet and easy confession.
“Yeah?” I ask, swallowing.
“Yeah,” she replies with a broad smile.
