Page 49 of Love By the Book
But as my heartbeat slows, another realization hits. I think back to the beach—Eli’s face lit by the amber sunset, his voice low and serious.
There’s something I need to tell you,he’d said.
And I’d dodged it. Smiled too brightly, invited him to dinner, bought myself time instead of just saying what I needed to. Like a grown-up. Like someone ready to be honest.
God, this is what I always do. I leap. I chase big, glittering ideas before I’ve figured out where they’ll land. Just likethe matchmaking service. Where I’ve had one client. Who I am now dating.
Once again, I’m being the definition of too much—too intense, too guarded, too emotional, too spontaneous, tooeverything.
Regardless of what Eli’s plans are moving forward, I know he wasn't slinking back to his life in secret. That conversation yesterday was something. I knew it then, and I know it now.
But knowing doesn’t stop the fear welling up in my chest. It doesn’t quiet the voice in my head whispering that I’m the problem. That I always have been.
Now, seeing this planner has only confirmed the thing I’ve tried not to believe—that even when someone says they love you, they can still leave. Just like Jacob did. It hurts so badly to see that Eli might leave too. What would happen if I let myself fall completely, if I let him become as essential as oxygen, and then lost him?
No, I'm not doing this again. Not setting myself up for that kind of devastation. Better to end it before the inevitable happens.
My fingers find the envelope in my pocket—the one I've avoided all morning. I’d said before I’d let the envelope decide. If I got the fellowship, I’d focus on my future travels. If not, maybe I’d let myself believe in something here. In him. But then I promptly ignored it and shoved it to the back of my mind like so many other inconvenient truths. It’s time to stop pretending. I tear the envelope open, the golden seal breaking with a soft snap.
Dear Ms. Wilder, we are pleased to inform you…
Somehow I can’t even force a smile to my lips. I got in. My dreams are actually coming true. And the universe isn’t being subtle about it. This is my direction. Maybe Eli and I have come to two paths in the woods, and he's supposed to travel one, and me another. Maybe it’s better to let it end now, whileit’s still golden and beautiful—before I ruin it with all my too-much-ness. Before he sees the whole of me and realizes he was never meant to stay.
The thought should bring relief—validation that I'm on the right track—but instead it feels like swallowing glass. This hollow ache in my chest is the exact reason I’ve guarded my heart. Because even the possibility of losing him hurts more than I expected.
So I’ll do what I’ve always done. Pull away. Smile through dinner. Pretend I’m not already broken wide open.
And when it’s finally over, I’ll let myself fall apart where no one can see me—where no one can look at me and remind me that I’m always too much to love.
Eli
I pause at the corner of Main Street and Oak, checking my reflection in the window ofA Novel Idea. My collar sits slightly crooked, and my fingers tremble as I adjust it. The butterflies in my stomach are doing aerial acrobatics that would put circus performers to shame. Meeting the parents. It's a big deal, right? Has to be. Especially since Rhianna's barely dated anyone in years, according to pretty much everyone in town.
The evening air is thick with the scent of salt and blooming jasmine as I make my way down the brick sidewalk, past the warmly lit shop windows and the usual evening crowd heading toThe Hungry Gull. The bottle of wine from The Market Basket & Vine’s surprisingly excellent collection grows slick in my palm. I've walked this street a hundred times since moving here, but tonight every step feels weighted with possibility.
Piper would laugh if she could see me now—her always logical big brother, the one who plans every detail of his life down to color-coded semester schedules, now following hisheart like the protagonist in one of Rhianna’s beloved romance novels. But here’s the thing: for the first time in my life throwing logic to the wind feels absolutely right. When I think about teaching virtually this upcoming semester, about maybe looking for a permanent position at a college here, about building a life in Magnolia Cove… my usual anxiety about major changes doesn’t surface. Instead, I feel that same thrill of rightness I got the first time Rhianna laughed at my terrible puns.
I’m even going to have to buy a new planner—something that would normally set me into a tailspin of anxiety. I’ve filled the current one out through December with my return timelines and teaching schedule back in Misty Pines, all written in different colored inks for various commitments. The idea of crossing all that out when I wrote it would have been unthinkable. Now? Now I’m actually excited about it. About rewriting my future, even if it means using white-out on my carefully laid plans.
Yesterday’s eight-hour round trip to examine what was supposed to be a first-edition Cyrus Whitlock turned out to be a clever reproduction—something that would have devastated me a month ago. Today, though, I barely care. Knowing that Rhianna’s smile—and the way she lights up when she sees me—is waiting for me matters more than any book ever could.
My whole life, I’ve approached every decision with care. Pros and cons lists. Five-year plans. Risk assessments. But Rhianna? She makes me want to skip all that and just leap. Maybe that’s what real love is supposed to feel like—like all your carefully constructed rules don’t matter anymore because you’ve found something better than being right. Something real. Something Mark never got the chance to find. His death was the push that set everything in motion, the move, the bold choices. I’d like to think he’d be proud of that.
I reach the end of the street and take a deep breath before walking up the pathway. The Wilder house is exactly what I pictured—a beautiful Victorian painted in shades of sage green and cream, with a wraparound porch that practically begs for summer evenings with lemonade and books. Flower boxes overflow with vibrant blooms, and wind chimes tinkle softly in the evening breeze. It's the kind of house that would make you believe in magic even if you didn't know it was real.
I head up the steps. Before I can knock, the door swings open to reveal Rhianna, stunning in a flowing dress covered in tiny yellow flowers. Her smile seems a bit too large, forced. Her eyes twinkle but not with happiness. It hits me in the gut, that flicker of something off. Before I can analyze it, she's pulling me inside.
"Mom! Dad! Gavin! The book nerd has arrived!" she calls out, her voice echoing through the house. The interior is even more magical than the outside—every surface seems to tell a story. Colorful rugs with patterns from around the world layer over the hardwood floors, and an eclectic mix of artwork covers the walls. Books are everywhere, which makes my heart sing. This is what happens when generations of professors and artists live in one place.
"Finally!" A tall man with dark hair and a cleft chin, who can only be Rhianna's brother, Gavin, emerges from what I assume is the kitchen. "I was starting to think she'd made you up. It's been what, four years since you've brought anyone home, Rhi?"
My heart warms until it fills my entire chest. Thisissignificant. Four years. She’s been so careful with her heart, just like me, and yet here I am, standing in her family home, about to share a meal with the people she loves most. Maybe we’re both ready to stop being so careful. Maybe sometimes the most terrifying, emotionally driven choices are actually the correct ones.
I’ve heard the whispers around town—about the man who left her when she was already grieving. I don’t know his name. But some small, uncharitable part of me would very much like to find him, hand him a copy ofHow Not to Be A Coward, and throw it at his face.
I don’t claim to be an expert on love, but I’m pretty sure the ‘in sickness and in health’part isn’t just for wedding vows—it’s the whole point. Being there when your partner is hurting… that’s the line between loving someone and just enjoying their light.
And now, Rhianna’s invited me in—to her family, her history, her heart. She’s giving me a chance to be the one who stays.
