Page 34 of Bring Me Your Midnight

He’s wearing a white collared shirt with a tweed jacket on top, and I suddenly get the feeling that we’re playing dress-up, wearing these clothes that are meant to portray a level of maturity that I, at least, don’t feel.

But I suppose if I’m going to play a part, there are worse people to play with than Landon.

“Tana, you look lovely,” he says when I get to the bottom of the stairs.

“Thank you,” I say. “So do you.”

My parents are watching us, and I’m thankful when Landon asks what I have planned for the day.

“A picnic. We’ll choose our food from some of the shops onthe Witchery, and then I thought I’d take you to one of my favorite lookouts to eat.”

Landon’s smile is easy and generous, and it looks like he’s truly excited. “Sounds perfect,” he says.

I grab the basket and two blankets from the table and say goodbye to my parents, and then we head to the door. Landon opens it for me, but just then I hear Ivy sneak down the stairs, and we both turn to look at her.

Something like gratitude settles on her face when she sees us together. Ivy, my best friend, who has known about this arrangement almost as long as I have, is still struck by the magnitude of it. I blink several times and look away, trying not to get caught up in the emotion of the moment.

“Have fun, you two,” my mother says.

Ivy clears her throat, and I give her a small smile before walking out the door with Landon.

“Thank you for coming out here,” I say to him.

“I’m glad to be here. Thank you for planning such a great day—it will be wonderful to see the island through your eyes.”

“I really love it here,” I say, falling in step beside him.

“Will it be difficult for you to leave?”

I pause and look at him. “Yes,” I answer honestly.

He nods. “Then we’ll have to create many reasons for you to visit.”

It’s a kind thing to say, thoughtful and sweet, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. And that’s when I realize my life with him might not be enough. It will be so many things: good, important, monumental, safe.

But it might not beenough. And I have to learn to be okay with that.

“What are you thinking about?” Landon asks me after I’ve been quiet for too long, looking out across the water instead of responding to his comment.

“Our life together.”

“What about it?”

“I was thinking that if I’m not going to have a lot of say in who I spend my life with, I’m glad I’m ending up with you.”

“And why is that?”

“Because we believe in the same things. We value family and duty and progress; many marriages have been built on far less.”

“That’s certainly true,” he agrees. “Do you think you ever would have chosen me on your own?”

The question catches me off guard, and I pause before answering. “I’ve always known I didn’t have a choice,” I say. “But maybe I would have.” I can see myself loving Landon one day. I can see that spark appearing. Maybe under different circumstances, I would have chosen him for myself. “What about you?” I ask.

“I’ve never given it much thought. But under any circumstance, I would choose to honor my family. And my family has chosen you.”

It isn’t romantic or transformative or even sweet, but it’s honest. And that’s the most we can offer each other right now.

We start walking again, and I point out parts of the island as we go. He’s interested, stopping to ask questions and get a better look at things. He cares. And it’s satisfying showing himaround, showing him the place I love more than anywhere else in the world.