8
1032 Words
Chapter 8
Almost
Monday arrived with butterflies in Leah's stomach.
She stood in front of the mirror in her small room, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her cream blouse for what had to be the tenth time.
Mrs. Dawson watched from the doorway with an amused smile.
"You know..."
Leah looked up.
"...the blouse isn't going to change if you keep staring at it, sunshine"
"I'm nervous."
"Good."
Leah frowned.
"Good?"
"It means this matters to you."
Mrs. Dawson walked over and gently adjusted the collar of Leah's blouse.
"You'll do wonderfully."
Leah smiled.
"I hope so."
"Trust me I know You will."
She kissed Leah lightly on the forehead.
"Now go before you're late."
Leah smiled at her
“Thank you”
---
The little bookstore smelled of cheap coffee and old pages.
Leah loved it instantly.
The owner, Mrs. Whitmore, was a cheerful woman in her sixties who insisted every customer leave with both a book and a smile.
By lunchtime, Leah had already shelved dozens of novels, recommended three romances, and accidentally knocked over a stack of travel guides.
Mrs. Whitmore simply laughed.
"It isn't your first day until something falls over."
Leah laughed with her.
For the first time in her life...
Working didn't feel like a burden.
It felt... freeing.
---
When the shop bell chimed that afternoon, Leah looked up automatically.
Marco stood in the doorway.
A bouquet of wildflowers rested awkwardly in one hand.
His other hand was tucked into his pocket.
He suddenly looked strangely nervous.
She blinked.
"What are those?"
He glanced down at the flowers.
"Oh."
"These?"
She laughed.
"Yes, those."
"I passed a field."
"And?"
"I thought they looked nice."
He held them out.
"So..."
"They're for you."
Leah stared at the bouquet.
No one had ever given her flowers before.
Not because they had to.
Not because it was expected.
Just because they'd thought of her.
"They're beautiful."
A shy smile tugged at Marco's lips.
"I wasn't sure if you'd like them."
"I do love them."
Mrs. Whitmore watched from behind the counter, pretending to organize books while smiling way too much.
Marco noticed.
His ears turned pink.
"I should probably let you get back to work."
Leah nodded.
"I finish at five."
"I know."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You know?"
"I asked."
"You asked?"
"I wanted to know when to come back."
Her heart skipped.
"I'll see you at five then."
"I'll be here."
---
Exactly at five o'clock...
Marco was waiting outside.
Leah laughed as she stepped onto the sidewalk.
"You actually came."
"I said I would."
"I thought you were joking."
"I rarely joke about important things."
She looked at him.
"So this is important?"
He met her eyes.
"Very….. absolutely important."
For a second...
Neither of them looked away.
---
They walked to the beach in comfortable silence.
The sky was painted in soft shades of orange and pink.
Marco skipped a pebble across the water.
"It sank."
"It did."
"I had higher expectations."
Leah smiled.
"I think that's your problem."
"My optimism?"
"It gets you into trouble."
"It also got me to meet you."
She looked down quickly, hiding the smile threatening to escape.
"You always know what to say."
"No."
He shook his head.
"I usually say the wrong thing."
"You haven't yet."
"Give me time."
She laughed.
---
As they reached the end of the pier, music drifted across the water.
A local guitarist sat outside a small café, playing a slow melody while a few couples danced beneath strings of lights.
Marco held out his hand.
"Dance with me."
Leah looked around.
"Here?"
"Why not?"
"There are people watching."
"So?"
"I don't dance."
"I don't believe you."
"It's true."
"So we'll both be terrible. Come on"
She laughed.
"I'll step on your feet."
"I'll recover."
He kept his hand out.
Patient.
Waiting.
Leah looked at it for a long moment before placing her hand in his.
His fingers curled gently around hers.
He led her onto the wooden deck.
Neither of them really knew how to dance.
They swayed awkwardly.
Laughed when they bumped into each other.
At one point, Marco accidentally turned the wrong way, and Leah nearly lost her balance.
He caught her around the waist.
Time seemed to stop.
She looked up.
He looked down.
The music faded into the background.
"You okay?"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
She nodded.
Neither of them moved.
Marco slowly brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
His thumb grazed her cheek.
Leah's breath caught.
He leaned in...
Just a little.
She didn't step back.
Their foreheads almost touched.
Almost.
"Marco!"
The shout came from behind them.
They sprang apart.
A fisherman waved from the dock.
"You promised you'd help unload tomorrow!"
Marco blinked.
"Right!....I did"
The fisherman grinned.
"Don't let me interrupt."
He walked away, chuckling to himself.
Leah covered her face with both hands. Embarrassed.
"I think the entire town is determined to embarrass us."
Marco laughed softly.
"I think they enjoy it."
---
That night, after walking Leah home, Marco stood outside the bed-and-breakfast for several minutes.
He watched the light in her room switch on.
Only then did he turn to leave.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old leather wallet.
Inside was a faded photograph.
It showed two boys standing beside the ocean.
One was around ten years old.
The other looked fifteen.
The older boy had an arm protectively around the younger one.
Marco stared at the picture for a long moment before quietly slipping it back into his wallet.
"You must be doing fine..."
he whispered into the night.
Miles away, Richard Bennett received another report.
His investigator placed several photographs on the desk.
Leah laughing.
Marco holding her hand.
The almost-kiss.
Richard studied them in silence.
Then he looked at the investigator.
"She's really happy now ain't she, how long have they known each other?"
The investigator answered without hesitation.
"Not long."
Richard closed the folder.
"Good."
He stood and looked out the window.
"Because when I take her back..."
His reflection stared back at him in the glass.
"...she needs to Be able to leave her heart behind."
- Writer
