Chapter 17

Starla

Soon after I open Tiger’s Den, I’m working on putting out some new inventory, and that’s when I hear it. The shrill noise of the old lady protesters are back and marching around outside my store. It’s as annoying as nails raking down a chalkboard. They're holding their homemade signs and chanting their misguided slogans, determined to make a spectacle of themselves as they condemn my adult toy shop.

"Keep our town pure!" one woman shouts.

"Shame! Shame!" another calls out, shaking her sign at me through the storefront window.

I grit my teeth, feeling frustration bubble up inside me. These women have no idea what it's like to be judged and shamed, just for being true to oneself. I glare at them through the glass, wondering what could possibly get them to stop vilifying me.

Annoyed and beyond frustrated, I lean on my elbows on the checkout counter, my head resting in my hands as my fingers spread through my long hair. What can I do to make them stop? My mind races through a maze of possibilities, each more unlikely than the last. I could appeal to their sense of empathy, but these women are so entrenched in their views, they're practically immovable.

Maybe I should just close up shop, but the thought of surrendering to their narrow-mindedness makes my blood boil.

I’ve worked too hard to give up now. However, when is enough, enough?

I stand there as the protesters' voices continue to bleed through the walls of Tiger's Den, their accusations a constant reminder of what I face every day in this small town that's anything but understanding.

The door to Tiger's Den chimes softly. I can barely hear the sound over the relentless chanting outside. I look up from my defeated slump on the counter and see Aaron standing in the doorway, concern etched on his handsome face.

"Starla," he says, his piercing blue eyes searching mine.

I force a smile. "Hey, Aaron."

He steps closer, his muscular frame blocking out the sunlight streaming through the window. "I heard about the protesters and came to check on you."

I nod, unable to speak, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. My mind races. How can I protect him from being dragged down by the weight of their judgment?

"Listen, Aaron," I start with a trembling voice, "I... I need you to walk away from me. Never come back."

His eyes widen, disbelief and hurt flashing across his features. "What? Why would you say that?"

"Because..." I swallow hard, trying to find the courage to continue. "Because I care about you, Aaron. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. I can't stand the thought of bringing you down with me."

"Star, don't do this," he pleads, reaching out to touch my arm. I recoil from his grasp, unwilling to let him get any closer.

"Please, Aaron," I beg, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "Just go. You deserve better than this."

Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring the edges of Aaron's face as I take a shuddering breath. "Aaron, please," I beg, my voice cracking. "I can't bear to see you get hurt because of me."

"I'm not going anywhere," he insists. He reaches out again, and this time, I don't have the strength to pull away. His hand gently cups my face, wiping away tears with his thumb. "You're not bringing me down. Don't let these people make you believe that."

"But they won't stop!" I cry out. "They'll come for you too, just like they've tried to do to me. I... I care about you too much to let that happen."

"Hey," Aaron says softly, his blue eyes locked on mine. "I can handle it. You don't need to protect me."

I want to believe him, but the fear is almost paralyzing. There is no way.

“No, you will be hated in this town. You have to go, Aaron.”

I cling to him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. I wish I could freeze time; hold onto the comfort he provides and forget about the outside world, but that will only hurt us more. So, I pull back.

“You really mean that?” he asks for confirmation.

I only nod my head up and down.

He takes another step back, and with each slow step he takes away from me my heart breaks even more.

Aaron's hand hovers over the doorknob, but he hesitates, and I pray he'll change his mind even though I know it's for the best. He finally opens the door, letting in a gust of cool air that splits the last threads of my heart in two.

"Goodbye, Starla," he whispers. I watch with tear-filled eyes as he pauses in the doorway, turning back to look at me one last time. The sorrow in his gaze is unbearable.

"Take care of yourself," I whisper, even though he's too far away to hear me. My chest tightens as he nods, offering me a small smile before disappearing from sight.

My legs shake with the effort of holding up my broken spirit as I sink down to sit in the corner of my store. The shelves full of colorful, enticing products and their promise of pleasure seem to cruelly mock me now.

My knees tuck to my chest, and I wrap my arms around them like a lifeline. Warm tears stream down my cheeks, each one a testament to the sacrifice we've made. As much as I wanted him to stay, I couldn't let these people destroy him like they are trying to do to me. I've always prided myself on being strong, but today my strength has been tested like never before.

In the darkness of my shop, hidden away, I allow myself to grieve. The tears flow freely. I cry for the love that could have been and the dreams that may never be.

Aaron is gone.