Page 8 of Forever In Willow Creek

Luke nodded once. “Then stop pretending. But don’t take it out on this town. Or me.”

Zoe felt like she might cry, but she didn’t. She just turned away, murmuring a soft goodbye.

Chapter 7: Confessions

Zoe barely slept.

The cottage was quiet, but her mind wasn’t. She lay awake long after midnight, replaying every word of her conversation with Luke. The way he looked at her—not angry, just disappointed. That was worse. She hated knowing she’d hurt him, that she’d let her fears build walls where bridges were trying to form.

By morning, her stomach twisted with guilt and something else she hadn’t quite named yet—fear. Not of Luke, or Willow Creek. But of the risk that she might actually want to stay.

The town was already waking up when she stepped out onto the porch, sweater wrapped around her shoulders like armor. She didn’t have a plan, but she knew she couldn’t let things fester between them.

At 9:12 a.m., she walked through the open bay doors ofHarrison Auto Repair. The usual sounds of tools and laughter was absent. Luke was alone, bent under the hood of a beat-up truck. He didn’t look up when she entered.

“Hey,” she said softly.

He wiped his hands on a rag but didn’t turn around. “Hey.”

Zoe stood still for a moment, unsure how to start. “About last night…”

Luke finally looked at her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, those steady, storm-blue eyes—held more emotion than she could unpack.

“You don’t have to explain,” he said.

“I want to,” she replied, stepping closer. “Because I said things I didn’t mean. Or—I meant them, but not the way they came out.”

Luke leaned back against the workbench, arms folded. “Okay.”

Zoe exhaled. “I’m not used to letting people in. Everything in my life has always been about control. About chasing something. Success, security… validation. You have to understand as a black woman trying to make it you have to work harder and smarter. I thought if I could be everything to everyone, I wouldn’t feel like something was missing.”

“And?” he asked quietly.

“And I still felt empty.” Her voice cracked. “Coming here wasn’t about finding peace. It was about escaping the noise long enough to realize that I’ve been drowning in it.”

Luke said nothing, but his expression softened.

“I’m scared,” Zoe admitted. “Not of this place. Not even of you. I’m scared of needing something I can’t control. Of wanting someone who might actually see me.”

“You think I don’t get that?” Luke asked, his voice low. “You think I haven’t spent years pretending I was fine? Fixing cars because it’s easier than fixing what’s broken in me?”

Zoe looked at him, startled by the edge in his voice.

“I lost my dad, Zoe. And when he died, so did every plan I thought I had. I’ve spent the last three years trying to prove to myself that staying here wasn’t the same as giving up. That roots could be just as strong as wings.”

She blinked, the ache in her chest deepening.

“But you show up,” Luke continued, “and it’s like the universe decided to test me all over again. Because for the first time in a long time, I want something more. I wantyou. But I can’t keep standing still while you decide whether you’re going to stay or run.”

Zoe’s breath caught. “I don’t want to run.”

“Then don’t,” he said simply. “But stop waiting for a guarantee. There isn’t one. Not here. Not anywhere. You have to choose it. Even when it’s scary.”

Zoe stepped closer, the air between them charged.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “But only if you’re honest—with me and with yourself.”

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