Page 54 of Before We Were

"You know," she continues, voice earnest, "sometimes inspiration isn't something you wait for. Sometimes, you have to go out and find it. It's there—in every little thing, every event, every interaction. Maybe you just need to squint a bit harder to see it."

Her words settle in my chest, and for the first time today, something like hope stirs. "Thanks, Lydia."

She squeezes my shoulder before heading to the kitchen. I watch her go, then push my laptop away. "I think I'm going to head out for a bit," I announce, stuffing papers into my backpack.

"Sure, honey, be safe," she calls after me.

The sea breeze cools my skin as I pedal through familiar streets, each rotation of the wheels steadying my thoughts. Almost without conscious decision, I find myself at Gracie's bookstore. The moment I step inside, the scent of old books wraps around me like a hug, bittersweet with memories of Dad.

Alfie looks up from his novel, gray hair charmingly disheveled. "Ah, couldn't stay away, could we?"

"Away from you Alfie? Never."

"You flatter me."

"This place feels like... home to me."

His eyes soften as he leads me to the classics and poetry aisle, pulling out a copy ofJane Eyre. "This was Gracie's favorite. Well, one of them."

"Really?"

"It's a book about a woman's quest for a fulfilling life on her own terms." He gives me a knowing look. "You remind me a lot of her."

"Jane Eyre or Gracie?"

"Both,” he says with a heartfelt smile.

"Because we both love books?"

"Because you're all incredibly bright women. And it's how you talk about the books you love. Like they're more real than reality itself."

I trace my fingers along the book's spine. "I guess it's easier to lose yourself in a world someone else has created than to deal with your own."

Alfie settles into a nearby chair. "You know, the first time I saw Grace, she was immersed in that exact book in the corner of this tiny little coffee shop down the street from where I lived." He points to a cozy nook by the window. "She was so engrossed, the world could have ended and she might not have noticed."

"Was it love at first sight?"

He chuckles, nostalgia warming his features. "Well, I was a shy boy back then so when I first noticed her, I memorized her coffee order, thinking one day I would buy her a coffee and that's how we would strike up our first conversation. But she only came through on a Tuesday, each time with a new book in her hand. Took me months to gather the courage to speak to her. So, it wasn't immediate, but it was inevitable. When I finally did talk to her, something just clicked. I knew I was going to fall in love with her. Like gravity pulling me in."

"Sounds like it was a slow burn."

"It was more like a recognition. Like, 'Oh, hello, it's you. Of course, it's going to be you.' I think that's the best kind of love story. It takes time, but it was worth every moment."

His words echo something in my chest, something I'm not ready to name. "Alfie, would you be willing to tell me more? Maybe over a few visits? I'm writing a story for a scholarship application??—"

"Nothing would make me happier than talking about my Gracie," he interrupts, eyes bright.

"Would you maybe consider being the subject of the story? I think this could be perfect, but only if you'd be okay with??—"

"I'd be honored, Nora."

For the first time in weeks, excitement sparks through me. "Thank you, Alfie. This... this could be exactly what I need to get out of my writing slump."

"Then let's make sure it's a story that does justice to my Gracie. Come in whenever you like and I'll tell you more."

The prospect of writing their love story thrills me—not just a distraction from my troubles, but something meaningful to pour myself into.

Alfie's smile carries a hint of melancholy. "This bookstore isn't just a place of business, it's a living memory— legacy of the love Gracie and I shared. Every book here, every corner, keeps that memory alive."

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