Chapter Six (continued)
913 Words
Back on solid ground, Elliot and Tessa walked slowly past stalls selling handcrafted jewelry, autumn candles, and spiced cider. Laughter rose in the air from a nearby hay maze, and children ran past with caramel apples and candy corn stuck to their fingers.
Elliot kept glancing at her hand in his. “Feels surreal.”
“What does?”
“This. You. Us.”
Tessa squeezed his fingers. “It is surreal. But it doesn’t feel wrong.”
They paused at the booth selling handmade journals, and Tessa picked up a small, leather-bound notebook. The cover was stamped with the words: “Begin again.”
She held it up. “Fate’s being a little on the nose tonight.”
He chuckled. “You think we’re fate?”
Tessa tilted her head. “I think we’re… unfinished. And maybe being unfinished doesn’t mean we were broken. Maybe it just means we weren’t done growing.”
Elliot studied her face in the lantern light, the way her eyes carried both joy and caution. “You sound like someone who’s been thinking about this a lot.”
“I have,” she said, placing the notebook back. “But thinking and doing are two very different things.”
---
Scene Shift: Outside Liv’s House, Later That Night
They drove in comfortable silence to Liv’s place—an old colonial with a wraparound porch, half-renovated after months of slow work. Tessa sat beside him in the truck, her head leaned slightly against the seat. Soft music played from the radio, some acoustic cover of an old Springsteen song.
He didn’t want the night to end.
“Can I walk you up?” he asked as they pulled into the gravel drive.
Tessa gave a soft smile. “You already are.”
They stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking under their weight. Cicadas sang somewhere in the distance. Elliot stopped at the door, hesitant.
She turned to him. “What is it?”
“I’m scared, Tess. That this is going to slip away again. That we’re going to mess it up.”
Tessa’s gaze softened. “We might. But this time, let’s promise not to run when things get hard.”
He looked at her. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
She rose onto her toes and kissed him—soft, searching, and slow.
Elliot kissed her back like a man who’d forgotten how and just remembered everything at once.
When they parted, breathless, she reached for the doorknob, then looked over her shoulder.
“Goodnight, Elliot.”
“Goodnight, Tess.”
---
Scene Shift: Sunday Morning – The Bookstore
The next morning, Tessa arrived early to the shop, heart still warm from the night before. She opened the door to find the lights already on.
Elliot stood near the poetry section, a fresh cup of her favorite chai on the counter.
“You have a key?” she asked, amused.
He held up a spare. “Bea gave it to me. Said if I was going to loiter like a stray cat, I might as well make myself useful.”
Tessa laughed. “That’s very Bea.”
They started shelving books together, moving easily between conversation and silence.
“You know,” he said after a while, “I started painting again.”
Tessa blinked. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Haven’t picked up a brush in three years. Until two nights ago.”
“What changed?”
Elliot looked at her. “You did.”
Tessa tried not to show how deeply that moved her. “You still have that old studio space above the bakery?”
“I do. Needs dusting. And soul.”
“I can help with both.”
---
Midday – Conflict Rises
Their momentary bliss was interrupted when Liv stormed into the bookstore around noon, cheeks flushed, holding her phone in one hand.
“We need to talk,” she said, marching toward Elliot.
Tessa stepped back instinctively.
Elliot frowned. “What’s going on?”
Liv threw the phone on the counter. “Mom’s attorney. We got the offer. If we don’t accept by Monday, the property gets tied up for months.”
“And?” Elliot asked.
“And you’re acting like this isn’t urgent,” she snapped. “You’re off playing house with Tessa while I’m doing everything alone.”
Tessa froze.
“Liv—” Elliot started.
“No, she deserves to hear it,” Liv said, turning to Tessa. “I know he’s charming, I really do. But don’t forget—he’s the guy who bailed when our dad got sick, who disappeared and left me holding every single piece.”
Elliot flinched, but said nothing.
Tessa stepped in carefully. “Liv, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s not about you,” Liv cut her off. “But if you’re getting back into this, just make sure you’re not doing it to fix the past. That’s a lot of pressure for one man to carry.”
She turned and stormed out, leaving the door swinging behind her.
Elliot sat down heavily on a stool.
Tessa came around and crouched in front of him. “Are you okay?”
He let out a breath. “She’s right. I left them both. I thought I was protecting everyone by staying gone.”
Tessa touched his hand. “Maybe you can’t fix the past. But you’re here now. That has to count for something.”
- Writer
