A Secret Promise

Chapter 1: Ink and Paper's Weight

The jingling of the bell above "The Book Nook" entrance was a familiar sound that typically made Chloe smile. Today, though, the sound was more akin to a little hammer strike to the already brittle framework of her meticulously planned life. The air was heavy with the smell of old paper and the subtle, lingering flavour of Noah's coffee, which was always brewing, and she was sitting on a shaky stool behind the counter, surrounded by piles of unsorted books.

When the door opened, Noah was there, his normally carefree smile giving way to a somewhat nervous look. He was carrying a big cardboard box full of books, a crumpled brown paper bag hiding the titles.v

He said, "Hey," in a slightly lower-pitched voice than normal. The sound reverberated throughout the otherwise quiet store as he carefully set the package on the counter.

Chloe forced a flimsy smile. "Hey yourself. Find anything interesting at the used bookshop?"

With a shrug, Noah combed through his untidy brown hair. He laughed and said, "A few gems. Mostly first editions, stuff we can’t really afford, but… hey, a guy can dream, right?" yet Chloe couldn't help but notice the tremble in his voice.

Chloe said, "Dream away," in an attempt to sound light. On the inside, though, a knot of fear grew tighter. In an effort to stock the shelves of their soon-to-open bookshop, they made the used bookshop their weekly Saturday habit. However, the ceremony felt different today, laden with an unsaid tension that lingered longer than the smell of old paper.

Ignoring her stare, Noah fumbled with the rumpled paper bag. "So," he said tentatively, "I was thinking… about the grand opening."

Chloe's heart fell. They used the hopeful phrase "grand opening" as a euphemism to hide the fact that their bookshop was still obstinately closed due to a lack of resolve on their part and countless regulatory obstacles.

"Yeah?" Chloe asked, tracing the spine of a battered copy of Wuthering Heights while attempting to appear casual.

With his eyes finally locking with hers, Noah blurted out, "Maybe… maybe we should postpone it again?" It was evident that he was anxious.

Chloe's dismay was a harsh sting. Delaying the opening once more would mean delaying their dream, which they had cherished since childhood and which had come to represent their enduring friendship.

"Noah," she added in a gentle yet strong tone, "we need to set a date, even if it's just a small, informal gathering, because we've been putting it off for months."

With a groan, he ran a hand through his hair once more, displaying his uneasiness. "I know, I know. But…" he said hesitantly, his eyes straying to the bulging bookcase. "With everything that’s going on…"

With a tinge of frustration in her voice, Chloe asked, "Everything?"

He inhaled deeply as his gaze finally met hers. "Chloe, about Columbia…"

Heavy and full of implied meanings, the words lingered in the air. Columbia University. A week ago, the acceptance letter had arrived, shattering the meticulously planned landscape of their future together. The letter that had cast their vow and their goal into a dangerous limbo.

Chloe responded, "I know," in a voice that was hardly audible. She experienced the same sense of shame that had followed her everywhere since the letter arrived. The shame of perhaps abandoning Noah, the remorse of possibly endangering their joint ambition.

"I got the email from the program coordinator," Noah added quietly. "They want you to start orientation next month. That’s… that’s sooner than we thought."

Chloe looked at the weathered wooden planks and nodded. She was being hit hard by the truth of the situation. Next month. Next month, I'm going. Getting rid of everything. Getting away from Noah.

"I know," she said again in an emotional stutter. Suffocating her with its intensity was the weight of her choice, the weight of their unspoken vow, and the weight of their shared hope.

With no more than a whisper, Noah said, "So… what are we going to do about the bookshop?" Unanswered, the query lingered in the air, a huge hole in the fabric of their common world. There was no simple answer to the question, and it posed a threat to everything they had promised one another and everything they had worked so hard to build. The ensuing quiet, broken only by the soft ticking of the ancient grandfather clock in the corner and the distant rumble of traffic outside, was dense with unsaid feelings. It felt heavier than ever, the weight of paper and ink, of promises and dreams.Once a clear and united vision, the future now appeared to be hazy and uncertain, one in which their friendship and their goals could have to forge different routes. Their hideaway, the bookshop, seemed less like a place of refuge and more like a sobering reminder of what they could lose. Once reassuring, the smell of coffee and old books now served as a stifling reminder of the shift that was about to happen. Normally a welcome sound, the jingling bell above the door now seemed to be a constant reminder that time was running out and that neither of them could completely understand what was ahead.