Nothing fell apart. I did. She blinked. And that's when I started putting myself back together, he said. The right way.
Not perfect, just better. Victoria looked down at her desk at the papers spread across it like battle plans. I don't know how to do that, she said quietly. Then let someone help you. Who?
Me? She looked up surprised. I'm not saying quit, he added quickly. I'm saying take a breath. One night.
That's it. Just one night where you're not this. He gestured at the office, the desk, the walls. Where you're just Victoria. I don't know who that is.
Then let's find out. She stared at him for a long moment. Then slowly she closed her laptop. Okay. Okay.
One night. He smiled. One night. Debt. They went to the bookstore.
Ethan hadn't planned it, but when Victoria asked where they should go, it was the first place that came to mind. She followed him in her own car and when she stepped inside, she looked around like she was seeing it for the first time. It's different at night, she said. Yeah. He flipped on the lights.
The store glowed warm and soft, every shelf casting long shadows across the floor. It smelled the way it always did, paper and dust and something faintly sweet he'd never been able to identify. Sit, he said, pointing to the armchair by the window. Where are you going? To make tea.
You have a kitchen here. I have a hot plate and a kettle close enough. She sat watching him as he disappeared into the back. When he returned, he handed her a chipped mug with a faded logo on the side. What is this?
Chamomile. I don't drink tea. You do tonight. She took a sip, made a face. It's not that bad, he said.
It tastes like grass. It's supposed to be calming. It's not working. He laughed and settled into the chair across from her. For a while, they just sat there, the silence comfortable and easy.
Do you ever get lonely? Victoria asked suddenly. He looked at her. Sometimes. How do you deal with it?
I don't really. I just keep moving. If I stop too long, it catches up. And when it does, I call my sister or I take Ava to the park or I come here and reorganize the mystery section for the third time this month. Victoria smiled.
A real smile. Small and fleeting but genuine. What about you? He asked. I work.
That's not an answer. It's the only one I have. He didn't push. She set her mug down on the side table and looked around the store again, her gaze lingering on the children's section in the corner. Ava must love it here.
She does. She's got a whole fort built behind the picture books. I'm not allowed to touch it. Smart girl. She is.
Victoria stood and walked over to the shelf, running her fingers along the spines. She pulled out a book Where the Wild Things Are, and opened it, flipping through the pages. "I haven't read this in years," she said. It's a classic. My mother used to read it to me before she got sick.
Ethan didn't say anything. He just waited. She died when I was 12. Victoria continued. Cancer.
My father never really recovered. He threw himself into work and I I guess I did the same. I'm sorry. Don't be. It was a long time ago.
She closed the book and put it back on the shelf, but her hand lingered there for a moment. Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like? She asked if things had gone differently all the time. And and I think I'd probably be miserable. Different but still miserable just in new ways.
She turned to look at him. You really believe that? Yeah. I think we end up where we're supposed to be even if the path sucks. That's optimistic.
That's survival. She smiled again. And this time it lasted a little longer. They stayed until almost midnight. At some point, Victoria kicked off her heels and tucked her feet under her in the chair.
Ethan made more tea. They talked about books, about Ava, about nothing and everything. And when Victoria finally stood to leave, she looked lighter somehow, less burdened. "Thank you," she said. "For what? " "For this?
For not letting me say no. " "Anytime? " She hesitated at the door, then turned back. Ethan, yeah, I'd like to do this again if that's okay. More than okay. She nodded, and for the first time since he'd met her, she looked almost happy. After that night, things shifted.
Victoria started showing up at the bookstore on Fridays. Not for long, an hour, maybe two, but she came. Sometimes she brought work. Sometimes she just sat and read. Ava was thrilled.
Is M. Hail coming today? She'd ask every Friday morning. I don't know. But she usually does.
Usually isn't always, but it's Friday. And she was always right. Victoria always came. One Friday, she brought Ava a book. I saw this and thought of you, she said, handing over a hard cover with a dragon on the cover.
Ava's eyes went wide. For me? Yes. Can I read it now? If your father says it's okay.
Ethan nodded and Ava disappeared into her fort, clutching the book like treasure. You didn't have to do that, he said. I wanted to. She's going to expect one every week now. Then I'll bring one every week.
He studied her. You're different. How? Lighter. Like you're not carrying the whole world anymore.
She looked away. Maybe I'm just learning to share the weight. Good. They stood there for a moment. The space between them charged with something neither of them had words for yet.
Ethan, Victoria said quietly. "Yeah, I think I'm starting to understand. " "Understand what? Things that aren't about money," he smiled. "Yeah, yeah. " And when she left that night, she didn't look back. But Ethan knew she'd be back because this, whatever this was, it wasn't finished.
It was just beginning. The first Saturday in April, Ava had a school project due on Monday. Ethan found out about it Friday night when she casually mentioned it over dinner. Oh yeah, we have to build a model of a historical building. Any building as long as it's famous?
He set down his fork. When did you get this assignment? 3 weeks ago. Ava, I forgot. How do you forget for 3 weeks?
She shrugged, shoveling mac and cheese into her mouth. I was busy. Busy with what stuff? He rubbed his face. What?
What building did you pick? The Statue of Liberty. Of course you did. Is that bad? No, it's just complicated.
You said I could pick anything. I didn't say that. Your teacher said that. Same thing. It wasn't, but he didn't have the energy to argue.
Instead, he pulled up a YouTube tutorial on his phone and started making a list of supplies they'd need. Cardboard, green paint, glue. A miracle. Can Miss Hail help? Ava asked.
She's probably busy. But it's Saturday. She works on Saturdays. That's sad. Yeah, it is.
Ava tilted her head, considering. You should ask her anyway. Ava, please. He looked at his daughter at her wide, hopeful eyes and felt himself caving. I'll text her, but don't get your hopes up.