Chapter 5: The Weight We Carry

A few days later, Esme sat in the garden with her father. The cicadas were humming. A couple of empty beer bottles sat between their chairs. Henry glanced over at her. “You used to sit like this with your mom.” Esme turned her head. “Did I?” “Yeah. She loved warm nights. Said it made her feel close to home.” He paused. “She’d be proud of you, you know.” Esme’s throat tightened. “I don’t know about that.” Henry didn’t argue. He just let the silence settle. “She died too young,” Esme said after a while. “Thirteen feels like too young to say goodbye.” He nodded slowly. “I know, lieverd. She was the love of my life, I never really figured out how to move on. I tried once, but… it didn’t feel right.” “You never talk about her.” “It hurts,” he admitted. “But I think maybe… it’s time to stop burying the good memories just to avoid the sad ones.” Esme looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers like she was trying to feel something. “The army changed me,” she said quietly. “I saw things I’ll never forget. I lost parts of myself.” Henry didn’t say anything at first. Then: “But you’re still here. Still you. Maybe a little harder on the outside, but I see her in you. Her strength. Her kindness.” Esme blinked fast. “I don’t feel kind.” “You are,” he said firmly. “You care too much. That’s what hurts most of all.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, like she used to when she was little. It was close to 2 a.m. in Texas, but Esme couldn’t sleep. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that made thoughts louder. So she grabbed her laptop, padded barefoot to the kitchen table, and clicked the video call button. Maxime answered, wrapped in a robe, mug in hand, her hair a chaotic bun of sleep. “Esme? What time is it?” “It’s about 2:30 AM.” Maxime sat up straight. “This better be good.” Esme gave a small, shy smile. “I have a date. With Joel.” The scream that followed was instant and ear-piercing. “SHUT UP,” Jane shouted. “You finally caved?!” Esme laughed. “It’s not caving! We’ve been talking more. It just… felt right.” Maxime and Jane bombarded her with questions, but Esme just laughed and reassured them she was okay. As she ended the call, Esme felt a sense of excitement and nervousness. She quickly got ready, choosing a simple dark green dress and doing her hair. She checked her reflection in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed out to meet Joel. As she drove to his house, Esme couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to let go of the weight she carried. When she arrived, Joel greeted her at the door, looking handsome in a fitted white shirt and jeans. “You look amazing,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Esme smiled, feeling a flutter in her chest. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.” They went out for dinner, laughing and talking like they used to. Esme felt like herself again, like she was finally starting to heal. As the night drew to a close, Joel walked her back to her car. “I had a great time tonight,” he said, his voice low and husky. Esme smiled up at him. “Me too.” Their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. Esme felt like she was melting into him, like she was finally home. As they pulled away, Joel smiled at her. “I’ll walk you out.” Esme nodded, feeling a sense of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other, the tension between them palpable. And then Joel leaned in and kissed her again. This time, it was deeper, longer, and left her breathless. Esme knew in that moment, she was in trouble. She was falling for Joel Miller.