Chapter Thirty-Two

thirty-two

Jessie

I wake in the dark to my alarm, and it takes a moment to orient myself. I'm in my cabin, and Luke and I are leaving soon to drive to the county seat to meet the judge.

Anxiety crackles in my stomach. The camp's future—my future—is riding on the next few hours.

Luke's already up, so I dress in the dark, then head out to find him. He's sitting on the porch steps, writing in a notebook. When he hears me behind him, he flips it shut.

Something in his posture seems odd.

"Hey," I say, touching his shoulder. "You okay?"

He meets my eyes for a split second before looking away, into the darkness of the woods surrounding the cabin. "Yes." He swallows. "No. I don't know."

I sit next to him on the steps, confused. "What is it?"

In response, he shakes his head. His profile, illuminated by the single porch light behind us, is rigid with tension.

"Luke?" I say, my worry growing. "Please talk to me."

"I don't—" He exhales, shaking his head. "There are a bunch of summer camps in New York, did you know that? A couple nights ago, I couldn't sleep, so I was looking them up online, which is bizarre, I'm aware of that, but I couldn't stop myself."

"Hopefully I won't have to look for another job, though," I say slowly. "If everything goes well today."

"I know, and that's so great, Jessie," he says, looking at his hands. "I'm thrilled for you, and for everyone who loves this place—me included. You get to stay here and keep doing what you've always wanted, what you were born to do, and I couldn't be happier for you."

"So…why don't you sound happy?"

"I am. Honestly—I just…" He tosses the notebook down next to him. "I told you this would happen—that it could happen so easily , and it has, and it's not like I went looking for this, I didn't—but now…"

He trails off, running both hands through his hair in a gesture of pure frustration.

I'm still confused—and worried. "What are you talking about?"

Luke looks over at me, his eyes stormy, anguished. "You told me not to say it, Jess."

It hits me then: we were in his bed, waking up together the morning after Scout died. He said spending time with me was terrifying, and I asked him why. Because I could fall in love with you so easily.

And I said, Don't say that.

Startled, I sit up straight. "Luke…"

"Yeah." He sighs. "I'm sorry."

I turn to him, eyes widening. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because the last thing you need is another complication. If everything goes well today, you'll spend the next few months completely focused on starting this co-op, which is what you should be doing. But I can't help thinking about what would happen if I stayed here, too, which is ridiculous because it's not like you've asked me to. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm falling head over heels…" He squeezes his eyes shut. "Sorry."

I blink, dazed. Does he think the only reason I agreed to stay with him in Michigan was because I had nothing else to do? That if the camp doesn't close, I won't want him to stay?

"I'm sorry for bringing this up," he says. "I hope you know that I'm rooting for you, and for this camp, no matter what that means for us. Okay?"

My heart fills with something so big and bright and wonderful I can hardly hold it. He's falling in love with me. The knowledge settles over me like sunshine, warming me from the inside, gently coaxing my own confession out of me—feelings I've been scared to express or even acknowledge.

I'm falling in love with him, too. Of course I am—it's been blossoming all summer. When he pulled me to shore after my kayak capsized; when he listened to me cry about Hillary; when he held my hand in the hammock; when he cried on my shoulder after his dog died.

But the most miraculous part? Luke understands exactly how much I love this place, my career. He's not asking me to choose him over camp—he's even thinking of staying here. He's rooting for me, for this camp, no matter what that means for us.

And what does this mean for us? I have no idea. But one thing I know for sure is that I have never, not once in my life, felt like this. About anyone.

"Luke," I say. "I'm falling in love with you, too."

His eyes meet mine, startling and blue. "You—what?"

"I'm falling in love—frustratingly, maddeningly, distractingly in love—with you."

His entire body seems to relax, his chin dropping to his chest. "Really?"

The one word contains a myriad of emotions: disbelief, elation, hope.

"Really," I say, my words bubbling out of me in a rush. "And—and no matter what happens today, I would love to go to your family's cabin in Michigan with you this fall, and if we do save the camp, then I would love it if you came back here with me afterward. That is, if you want—"

He pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my shoulder. I lean against him, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotion rising inside me.

"I never planned on falling in love again," he says quietly. "I tried really hard not to. But you wouldn't leave me alone, Jess."

"Sorry about that." My mouth twitches in a smile.

He pulls back to kiss me, laughing. "Yeah, you're not one bit sorry."

I laugh, kissing him again. "No, I'm not."

His watch beeps, and he glances at it. "I hate to say this, but we need to go. You ready?"

I nod. "As I'll ever be."

"Let's go save your camp."

—

Hillary and Cooper meet us in the parking lot to send us off—Cooper with foil-wrapped breakfast sandwiches, Hillary with travel mugs of coffee.

"We should be back well before eleven o'clock," I say to them.

"Hopefully the buyer and Jack won't show up before then," Hillary says, "but if they do, we'll stall them."

"I'll throw myself in front of the bulldozer if I have to," Cooper says with a smile.

"Same," Hillary says. "I'll throw Cooper in front of the bulldozer if I have to."

I laugh and throw my arms around her. I'm overflowing with gratitude for her, for coming back here and not giving up when I was so resistant to rebuilding our friendship. For standing by my side through it all.

"See you in a few hours," I say when we separate.

She smiles. "I'll be right here waiting."