Page 17 of Forever In Willow Creek

Luke arrived just before dark, headlights flashing once down the driveway. He stepped out of the truck holding a brown paper bag and two cans of soda tucked under his arm.

“I come bearing dinner,” he said with a crooked smile.

Zoe returned the smile. “Did you cook?”

“Does Penny’s Place count?”

They ate on the porch, picnic-style, legs stretched out and their backs leaning against the railing. The leftover storm clouds hovered above them, but the world was quiet. Steady. Safe.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Zoe said after a while, picking at the label on her soda can.

Luke glanced at her. “Dangerous territory.”

She smiled, but it faded quickly. “You know how I told you I lost my mom when I was young?”

He nodded, waiting.

“She was sick for years. I don’t remember much from before the illness. But I remember the day my dad stopped making breakfast. I remember when he stopped smiling at dinner. It was like we all became machines. Productive. Efficient. But hollow.”

Luke stayed quiet, giving her space.

“I think I’ve been trying to outrun that silence ever since,” Zoe whispered. “Filling every space with meetings and goals and… noise.”

He reached over and took her hand.

“I didn’t just burn out in Chicago,” she added. “I broke. I started to forget why I was even fighting so hard.”

Luke’s thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles. “And now?”

“Now, I want more than success. I want something thatfeelsreal. I want mornings that start slow. Dinners that actually taste. Love that doesn’t have to be perfect to be worth keeping.”

Luke leaned his head back, staring at the canopy of stars. “You’re not the only one who’s been hiding behind habit.”

Zoe turned to him, surprised by the openness in his voice.

“I wasn’t always quiet,” he said. “When my dad was alive, we fought like hell. Over the shop, over my future, over everything. I left town once, for about six months. Thought I’d never come back.

“What changed?”

“He got sick.” Luke’s voice dipped lower. “Not the kind of sick you can plan around. One day he was in the garage, hands covered in grease. The next, I was helping him walk to the bathroom.”

Zoe placed her hand gently over his heart.

“He didn’t want to go in a hospital,” Luke went on. “So, I brought him home. Took care of him. And when the heart attack took him out, I didn’t leave again. Part of me thought I owed it to him to stay. To carry on what he built. But the truth?” Luke looked at her. “I was scared. Scared if I left again, I’d lose everything—him, this place, myself.”

Zoe’s eyes shimmered. “You didn’t lose him.”

“No,” he said. “But I did lose the part of me that believed I could still wantmore.”

She leaned in, touching his face. “Then let’s find it. Together.”

Luke turned his lips into her palm. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

“I don’t want perfect,” Zoe said. “I just wanthonest. Messy, flawed, real.”

He pulled her into his arms, and they sat in the dark, wrapped around each other like the world outside had finally stopped spinning.

No more hiding.

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