MAY 5, 2012 - 3 YEARS BEFORE

THE SPRING SUN was just warm enough to soften the late morning chill, and I basked in the glow, exhaling slowly. A swirl of nerves was writhing in my belly, and I tried to tamp them down, focusing on my footsteps on the sidewalk.

Will's neighborhood was small and quaint, different in the daylight than it had been a couple months ago in the dark when I gave him a ride home after Duncan's party. I knew the majority of Cape Vincent like the back of my hand. Family friends used to live a couple streets over from Will's house, and I would ride my bike to the nearby park, looking for ladybugs among the leaves in the fall, careful not to tread on earthworms in the spring.

As I drew closer to his house, I swallowed. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe things were moving too fast. It'd barely been a month since Will had kissed me for the first time in the science lab, and it was still the only thing I could think about, replaying in my head every night when I closed my eyes, and bringing a flush to my cheeks throughout the day.

I wasn't entirely sure where we stood. We'd been spending a lot of time together—some people might call it dating—but I hadn't allowed myself to think that far.

When I saw Will standing at the end of the drive, hands stuck into his pockets as he waited for me, a tantalizing mixture of relief and excitement flooded over me, relaxing my shoulders and coiling tight in my stomach. He straightened up, brightening, and I hurried my footsteps.

"Hey," I breathed.

Reaching out, he took my free hand in his, threading our fingers together, and my heart fluttered in response. "Viv." His oceanic eyes swept over my pale blue sundress and cream-colored cardigan, before returning to my face, sparkling. "You look lovely."

My face warmed, instantly self-conscious, and I removed my hand from the pocket of my cardigan to smooth it over my skirt. "Is it okay?"

"It's perfect," he reassured me, giving my hand a squeeze. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too."

His gaze lingered on my face for another moment, and I shifted my weight between my feet, the nerves returning. My trepidation must've been evident, because he tilted his head to the side, eyebrows pinching slightly. It was startling how quickly he'd learned how to read my body language.

He tapped my forehead gently. "What's going on in there?"

"What if he doesn't like me?" I blurted, eyes flickering to the house over Will's shoulder. It suddenly felt foreboding.

"It's practically impossible for someone not to like you. Besides, he's really been adamant about meeting you."

The words were confident and easy, as if he didn't even have to think about them, but I didn't feel placated. Despite this, I fixed him with a meek smile, letting him tug me in the direction of the house gently. I was grateful that I'd gotten to speak to him alone before meeting his father, at the very least.

Will had sprung the idea on me at school yesterday, as we made our journey to the cafeteria. I wondered if it was premature to have dinner with his father, considering our relationship didn't have any sort of label, and I hadn't quite shaken the habit of telling myself it wouldn't last. But he'd met both of my parents, and grandfather, on multiple occasions. I supposed it was only fair.

A large part of me worried that this dinner had the ability to change everything. What if his dad liking me was a prerequisite to us ever becoming anything more?

I clung onto Will's hand as we approached the front door, eyeing the wilting flowers in the planter box in front of the house. Now was the time that things were supposed to be in bloom, not shriveling up the way they did come autumn. I tried not to let myself think of it as a symbol.

Will smiled down at me one last time, a tint of pink to his cheeks, before pushing the door open and bringing us inside. I was instantly greeted by a warmth emanating from the kitchen, and a multitude of pleasant smells—a mixture of seasonings, sweet potatoes and vegetables. Mimicking Will, I kept my shoes on, gaze sweeping over the entrance way and living room before trailing behind him down the hallway.

We entered the kitchen and the smells intensified, managing to arouse a pang of hunger that I thought was long suppressed by anxiety. A man with dark blond hair was at the stove, adding the finishing touches to the meal, and he turned to look at us over his shoulder at the sound of our footsteps.

I was immediately startled by the striking resemblance. Lachlan Tucker was, for all intents and purposes, an older version of Will. His blue eyes were crinkled at the corners with smile lines behind square-rimmed glasses, a light dusting of graying stubble covering his jaw. He smiled, nodding in our direction and wiping his hands on a tea towel.

"Welcome," he greeted.

Will placed a soft hand on my back. "Dad, this is Vivienne. Vivienne, Dad."

Lachlan extended a hand for me to shake, and I stepped forward woodenly, hoping my fingers didn't feel shaky as I obliged, smiling. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Vivienne."

"Same to you."

"Your timing is perfect. Will, help me get this on the table."

I stepped out of the way as they carried steaming dishes across the kitchen to the circular table a short distance away. The house was on the smaller side, but I supposed they didn't need much for just the two of them. I wondered how it felt, knowing the majority of their family was back in Australia, having taken their mother's side in the divorce. It must've been lonely.

"Can I help with anything?" I asked, fidgeting with my fingers.

Lachlan's eyes swept over me dismissively. "No, you just have a seat, darling."

Will met my gaze knowingly, nodding at the chair with his chin. Inhaling quietly, I tucked my hands behind the skirt of my dress, taking a reluctant seat. I didn't like feeling useless, or having people wait on me. My knee bounced nervously, though I tried to contain it as the table steadily filled with food and condiments.

"This looks amazing," I said.

"Dad's the best cook around," Will boasted proudly, and the words earned a short laugh from his father. I smiled.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far, William."

He paused, appraising the spread and placing his hands on his hips, before his eyebrows creased in a frown. Everything looked and smelled absolutely delicious, but Lachlan shook his head, looking displeased.

"And I've forgotten the most important part," he declared. "Sparkling cider."

"That's hardly the best part. We don't need it." Will shrugged, the chair next to mine scraping the floor as he pulled it back, preparing to sit down.

"Nonsense. This is a special occasion," he said. "Grab my wallet from my bedroom, and make a quick trip to the store. We'll keep the food warm while you're gone."

Will raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

Feeling uncomfortable and wanting to maintain the peace, I sprung up from my seat. "We can go together."

"No, no, sweetheart," Lachlan stopped me again. "You're our guest. He can manage on his own. It's just up the road." He met my eyes, smiling. "And it'll give us a chance to chat."

The notion made my stomach twist with nerves. The last thing I wanted was to be left alone with Will's dad.

I looked at Will inconspicuously, hoping to convey with my eyes that he should insist on me tagging along. But instead, he winced, his expression a mixture of sympathy and irritation, before sighing, scratching the back of his neck.

"If you insist," he said, defeated. He looked at me. "It'll only take a minute."

Forcing a smile, I nodded. "Sure."

After retrieving the wallet, Will gave me one last apologetic glance before letting the door close behind him. A quiet instantly settled over the house, and I stared at the closed door for another beat, until Lachlan took the seat across from me.

He rested his elbows on the table, folding his hands together and smiling. "I'm glad you were able to make it on such short notice," he remarked.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"So." Lachlan tilted his head, and up close, his eyes seemed even more blue and piercing than Will's, like they were seeing straight through me, assessing my character. "You've taken a liking to my son, have you?"

Time for the interrogation.

I swallowed subtly, straightening in my chair, a blush warming my cheeks. "He means a lot to me." I didn't know what I was supposed to say.

"That's sweet." His eyes narrowed in a way that made me doubt the sincerity of his words, despite his tone remaining light and friendly. "You know, it's interesting. The girls he dates aren't usually so. . ."

Lachlan paused, gesturing in my direction, and the simple action was enough to send my self-esteem catapulting to rock bottom.

"Simple," he finished firmly. "Where did you say you were from?"

My lips parted, cheeks burning. I'd never had someone dismiss me so obviously. Distantly, I felt my fingers curl into fists on my lap, and my eyes flickered to the door, wishing I could summon Will to make a swift return.

"Excuse me?"

Lachlan seemed to sense I was upset. "Oh, I'm not insulting you, sweetheart," he continued. "It's just curiosity. And, well, you know it's only temporary."

I exhaled, shaking my head, feeling a stinging sensation behind my eyes. "I'm sorry, what do you mean?" My voice was soft, timid. I hated it. I wished I had the confidence to stand up for myself.

His expression contorted in pity. "You didn't truly think it was going to last, did you? Will needs to focus on his studies and his sports, and there's a good chance we'll be heading back overseas once he's graduated."

"He. . . he never told me that," I mumbled, heart steadily sinking.

Lachlan reached over, patted my hand gently. It was still balled in a fist. "I just thought you should know now. Someone like you will never be long-term."

The small kitchen suddenly felt suffocating, like the walls were creeping inward the longer he spoke. My throat was tight, every limb on my body rigid, and I wanted nothing more than to bolt up from the table and head straight for the front door. I wasn't wanted here.

Swallowing, I summoned what little courage I could muster. "Why did you let me come over today?"

"I wanted to nip things in the bud," he said simply. "Before someone gets hurt."

My chest constricted, vision increasingly blurry. "Too late," I murmured.

Lachlan hated me. Will was moving back to Australia. Everything was temporary.

I'd allowed myself to get swept up in the moment, to imagine a future that I would never be able to have, and it had only ended with me getting hurt.

Unceremoniously, I stood from the table, listening to the scrape of my chair on the floor.

"Vivienne," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

I ignored him, bursting through the front door and wrapping my arms around my torso tightly. I felt sick. The sun had been comforting before, but now the flare of heat against my skin made a storm of nausea swirl in my stomach. It was over. All of it was over. How could I hope for anything more when his father vehemently disapproved of my existence? When he hated a fundamental part of me?

Further down the sidewalk, footsteps competed with mine. I glanced up for a split second to see Will heading in my direction, grocery bag with the sparkling cider in hand, and I debated turning on my heel and heading in the opposite direction, but it was too late. In my periphery, I could see him lift a hand in greeting, a large smile gracing his features. My stomach twisted.

"Did you come looking for me?" he teased. " I didn't know you liked cider that much."

My footsteps slowed to a halt, and I kept my eyes down, blinking rapidly, my arms still wrapped around myself protectively. I didn't see his face, but I could feel his demeanor change as he approached.

"Vivienne?" he asked, softer now.

I squeezed my eyes shut when he placed a gentle hand on my arm.

"What's going on? What happened?"

"I'm going home," I choked out, forcing myself to look at him. His crystalline eyes were wide and confused, darting over every inch of my face. "Your dad hates me. I knew I shouldn't have come here."

His head reared back, and he blinked in disbelief. "Vivienne, what are you talking about? He said that to you?"

"He may as well have," I said, sniffing. Will's eyebrows drew together tightly, looking back at the house over my shoulder.

I pulled the sleeve of my cardigan over my fingers, using it to wipe away the first tear that slipped down my cheek. Taking a step backward and out of his grasp, I swallowed again.

"We shouldn't see each other anymore," I told him quietly. "He doesn't approve of me, and you're going to be moving soon—"

"Moving?" A flicker of hurt darted across his features, and he took a frantic step closer. "Wait, Vivienne, please. Just slow down. I don't even understand what you're saying."

"Will, I don't want to slow down," I pleaded. "I just want to go home."

"Please," he started again, and the genuine desperation in his voice made me hesitate. "I really don't want to leave things like this. Can we at least talk?"

Talking was the last thing I wanted to do, but the tiny glimmer of hope that somehow still burned inside of me won over.

"Okay."

We didn't go back to the house. Instead, we made the trek to the park I used to frequent as a child, taking a seat on the swing set while some older kids passed around a soccer ball a short distance away. I watched them because it was easier than looking at Will.

I relayed the words his father said to me, as embarrassing as they were, the heat in my cheeks returning. He was quiet for a long time afterward, and I pushed myself back and forth on the swing, swaying slightly, willing myself not to cry.

"I can't believe he said all of that," he murmured finally, and I blinked a couple times, biting the inside of my lip. "I'm so sorry."

He turned to me, but I quickly looked away.

"Vivienne," he began, voice low. "Please know that if I thought he was going to say anything like that, I would've never left you alone with him. I would never intentionally put you in a situation if I thought it would be harmful to you. I wanted you to meet him because you're both important to me. I'm so, so sorry."

"You really had no idea he felt this way?" I couldn't help but ask. My walls of distrust had gone up again, and I was unwilling to let them fall so easily.

"None." His face was somber, withdrawn. "It makes me sick to my stomach. I don't understand it at all." He shifted his position, leaning forward to put his head in his hands. "I showed him a photo of you. He was the one to suggest this dinner."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't understand how someone like Will could come from someone like Lachlan, could look the exact same but be so different inside.

Will lifted his head, reaching out for my hand. I leaned closer to him, intertwining our fingers. "Please believe me," he said.

"I do," I told him. It was true. The complete despair on his face couldn't be faked. I inhaled deeply. "But you know this will never work, right? He's your dad, Will. How can it? I can't go back to that house if he's there."

"I'd never ask you to," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, I live with a stranger now. Because the father I knew would never do something like this. I won't let him anywhere near you, I swear."

Despite his words, the troubled look didn't vacate my face. I still felt the rejection deep in my bones. I'd dealt with prejudice before, it was how Will and I first met, after all. But that was from strangers, not the father of the boy I was falling for. And my existence had just single-handedly destroyed the relationship between them.

I'd done well to hold back the tears until now. Nose stinging, I let Will's fingers fall from grasp gently. "I just ruined your family."

The words were barely a whisper, but he still heard them loud and clear. He stood instantly, latching onto my hand again and taking me with him. His face was clouded over with urgency, and he tucked a curl behind my ear, fingertips grazing my cheek.

"No, Viv, you didn't," he murmured. "He did that all on his own. The second we graduate, I'm getting out of there."

I searched his eyes, looking for something that would make me feel better, and coming up short. "Are you really moving back to Australia?"

The pause in the conversation made my stomach sink down to my toes. Until he shook his head resolutely.

"I didn't know what I wanted at first," he said, his voice soft as his thumb stroked my skin, wiping away a tear. "Every day I make more of a home here. Every day the thought of leaving gets harder, but I didn't know what I wanted until just now. I want this. I want you, Vivienne."

My lips parted, breath coming out in a quiet exhale.

"I know that's a lot to say when we haven't known each other that long, but I've never felt this way about anyone before. I can't give this up." A flicker of insecurity darted across his face. "Unless that's what you'd prefer. I'd understand if it was."

I let out a breathy laugh. As if he thought I could ever want anything else. Ever since I met him, I'd grown accustomed to the idea of him leaving one day, and he just quelled all of my doubts. He wanted me, too. He wasn't going anywhere. It nearly erased all of the bad that had happened today, and it felt like the kindest gift anyone had ever given me.

"I want this, too," I whispered.

Relief sank into his features, and he kissed me. After several moments, he rested his forehead against mine. When he spoke, his voice felt like a caress, gentle and safe. "Whatever happens, you and me."

I smiled, warmth blooming throughout my entire body. "You and me."

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hello hello! a reminder that updates will be slow from this point forward. i intended to get more chapters written before posting this one, but that just didn't happen, and i didn't want to leave you hanging longer! 

anyway, hope you enjoyed <3

until next time.