Chapter 10: Something Like Normal

The warm Texas night lingered in the air long after sunset, clinging to skin like memory. The cicadas buzzed in the trees, a gentle hum that filled the silence between Esme and Joel as they sat on the back porch. Henry and Sarah had gone to bed hours earlier, and the beer in her hand had gone untouched. Joel noticed her lack of enthusiasm. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and gentle. Esme hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just… tired." The word was barely above a whisper, and Joel's gaze lingered on her face, concern etched in his features. He didn't press her for more information. Instead, he waited, like he always did, for her to open up. The silence between them was comfortable, a sense of ease that had grown over the weeks they'd spent together. Eventually, Esme turned to him, her eyes searching. "Can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft. "Course," Joel replied, his eyes locked on hers. "If someone told you something awful… something that might change the way you saw someone else—someone you cared about… would you want to know?" Esme's voice was barely above a whisper, and Joel's expression turned thoughtful. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, the beer bottle dangling from his hand. "I'd rather know the truth. Even if it's ugly," he said, his voice low and steady. Esme nodded, pulling her knees to her chest. A small, shy smile played on her lips. "There's something I want to tell you. A secret only my two best friends know about." Joel's gaze never wavered, his eyes holding a quiet steadiness that encouraged Esme to continue. She took a deep breath, and the words began to spill out, a confession that had been bottled up for too long. "It's about my ex," she said, her voice cracking. "His name was Tim. We met in the army. He was charming. Everyone liked him. Even my dad." As Esme spoke, Joel's expression remained calm, but his eyes narrowed, a sense of unease growing beneath the surface. He listened, his body tense, as Esme revealed the truth about her past, about the controlling behavior, the yelling, and the bruises. The words hung in the air, a heavy silence that seemed to swallow them whole. Joel's hands clenched slowly around the bottle, his jaw tight, but he said nothing, just listened. When Esme finished speaking, Joel's voice was low and gentle. "That ain't on your dad. That's on Tim." He reached for her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. Esme gripped his hand like an anchor, a sense of trust and safety washing over her. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she wasn't alone, like someone understood her. As they sat there, hands entwined, the night air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, Esme felt something like normal, a sense of peace that had eluded her for so long. And as she looked at Joel, she knew that she wanted to hold onto this feeling, to explore the possibilities of a future with him.