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I take the next few days to sit with my feelings, sorting through the emotions that come with falling for someone yet being conflicted about it.

Through this process, I have to work – well, if you call what I’ve been doing work.

My mind isn’t here. It’s with Autumn, but I purposely don’t call her.

Don’t text her. Don’t speak to her at all.

I haven’t allowed myself to get this close to a woman and I don’t want to get involved with one now.

She’s too innocent for me. Too good of a woman to get mixed up with half of a man.

Yes, that’s what I see when I look in the mirror.

A man who’s living below his potential. I’m in no position to think about being with someone, especially a woman as great as her.

T oward the end of the day when we’re wrapping up things at the store and leaving for the day, my father gives me a serious side-eye and says, “Make sure you get plenty of rest tomorrow so you can actually be present.”

“I was present today, Father,” I tell him.

I don’t want to get into it with him, but the man acts like I’m the bane of his existence. I know why – don’t really want to get into that either, but he just may make me lose it. I’m not particularly in the mood for a talking to after dealing with what I’ve had to deal with for the last few days.

“You were present? Really? Who puts grapes in the same bag as a bottle of apple juice? It doesn’t require a degree to be a bagger, and you can’t even get that right.”

“Dear!” Mom says, intervening like she always does as if I need saving from him. I know how to handle my father. I just choose to take the higher road where he’s concerned.

“It’s alright, Ma. Dad’s just having a bad day.”

“ I’m not the one having the bad day. That would be you. What’s with you these last few days? You usually come in here all chipper, ready to start the day and lately, you’re just bland—standing there looking in a daze like you don’t know your right from your left.”

“Well, Father, I can assure you I know my right from my left.”

“Then act like it!”

“My God—have you never had a bad day?” I ask, heated, yet still trying to remain tactful.

He lets out a pissed off chuckle and says, “Oh, yeah. I’ve had plenty of those. Like when I pay for my son—my only child—to go to college and he turns out to find much more joy in bagging groceries.”

“You know why I chose to work here.”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap.”

“I’m dying, Dad!”

“You ain’t dead yet!” he snaps, yelling louder than I did.

“I may as well be!” I take a few breaths to calm my psyche and say, “You know what—argue by yourself. I’m out.”

I leave the store in a hurry, hop in my car, and peel out.

I get home in record time, shower and lie on the bed, thinking about things I know I probably shouldn’t yet can’t help but wonder about.

Like, when am I going to die? When will my last day be?

What exactly does dying feel like? Does my father have the right to be as upset as he is with me?

Why does it feel like the walls are all closing in on me at once?

Thursday morning , I don’t go to work since I know my father doesn’t want me there.

My mother called and left a voicemail, giving me the same spiel she always does whenever my father goes off on a tangent.

She tells me he means well. He’s just frustrated because he wanted his son to have the best of everything.

I didn’t want to, but my heart tells me to text Autumn and I know why. With her, I know I’ll get the support that I’m lacking right now. Just interacting with her will greatly improve my current mood.

Hey.

She doesn’t respond right away. She’s at work during this time. Finally, after about a half hour, she responds:

Hey, stranger.

How are you?

I’m good. You?

I’m not sure at the moment.

What’s wrong?

Just feeling a way.

The texting ceases. She probably had to get back to work, I assume – well, until I see her name followed by leaves on my caller ID display.

“Hi, Autumn.”

“What do you mean you’re feeling a way?”

“It’s…I ended up getting into an argument with my father and it escalated like it always does with him.”

“Okay, so the best thing to do is wait until he calms down and then talk to him.”

“There is no talking to my father.”

“Has it always been that way?”

“No. This all happened after I decided not to pursue a career in economics. He feels like I wasted my degree and he hates the way I live.”

“Oh. I see. Well, I’m sorry you’re going through that. I wish there was something I could do, but I’m stuck at work.”

“I know, and I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“No, it’s not a disturbance at all. Anytime you need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Autumn.”

“You’re welcome, Judah. I wish I could hug you right now. That would make you feel better.”

“Since you can’t, how about you tell me a joke?”

She grins. “I don’t know any jokes.”

“You do. Just make up one. Make it book-related.”

“Oh, gosh—you mean like that one you told me at the bookstore?”

“Yeah. Just like that.”

“Okay. Um…let’s see…um…okay. Why did the romance books start dating?”

“Why?”

“Because they were on the same page.”

I grin. Her little joke has put me in a better mood.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know that was worse than the one I came up with.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she says, tickled.

“It was. Now, we’re even.”

“If you say so, Judah.”

“Hey, if you would like to meet for lunch—”

“I would love that,” I answer quickly before she can finish the rest of the question.

“Okay. Tell you what…I’ll pick a place close to my job. I’ll text you shortly.”

“Okay.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in a few.”

Sitting inside The Corner Grill, I watch Autumn come inside wearing a white blouse with a blue jean skirt that falls to her ankles. Both pieces hug her shape and complement her body. She’s a beauty – a sight to behold – and she’s taking time out of her day for me.

I stand as she approaches the table and say, “Hi.”

“Hey,” she says, sitting down in the chair across from me. “It’s good to see you.”

“You as well, Autumn.”

As she settles, the waitress comes over with a menu. It’s a work lunch for her, so she orders her food right away – a grilled chicken sandwich with fries. I’m not all that hungry, so I just order fries.

She says, “I was surprised to hear from you.”

“Why?”

“Well, you kissed me like there was no tomorrow on Sunday, and then you just disappeared.”

“I fell back into work,” I say, but I know from the expression on her face she doesn’t believe me, and she shouldn’t.

It’s just an excuse. I didn’t contact her because I didn’t want to.

I crossed the line by kissing her. I realize I can’t undo the kiss, so I thought separating myself from her would be the next best option.

It wasn’t.

It made me crave her presence even more. Sitting here with her right now is a relief. The void I felt from her absence is gone. I’m not scatterbrained. I can focus. Think. I’m at ease. I desperately needed this.

The food arrives quickly. Autumn takes a bite of a chicken sandwich that I imagine she’s had plenty of times before, then holds a napkin in front of her mouth and says, “So, tell me what exactly happened with your father?”

“He’s angry with me.”

“Why?”

I fidget with my glass of water and say, “He, like everyone else, thinks I’m wasting my life away.”

“Everyone else?” she asks, brows raised her eyes scanning my face like a barcode.

“Yes. My mother thinks it, too, but she’s always been the one to do everything in her power to appease me. She doesn’t want any rifts between us. No drama. No arguing back and forth like I do with my father. My mother is one of the most loving, kind-hearted women I know.”

“And your father is a bit more…um…stern?”

“He’s a businessman. His father passed the grocery store down to him, and he actually didn’t want it because it meant he’d have to forgo his dreams. But to satisfy his father, he took it on and kept the store profitable for years.

He had bigger dreams for me. Told me to follow my dreams and not to worry about the store.

I wasn’t supposed to be working there, bagging groceries.

I was supposed to be an economist, an accountant, a city planner—I was to hold a position where I could make a hefty amount of money so I could pass my success down to my family.

The thing is, there’s no chance of me having a family, so most of the things my father wants for me aren’t going to happen.

It’s wishful thinking. That’s what I need him to understand, but he can’t wrap his head around it.

He thinks I’m going to be here forever.”

“In a sense, you will be.”

“How’s that?”

“You’ll be in his heart forever. You’re there now, even though it may not seem that way. His anger is a direct result of the love he has for his only son. What parent doesn’t want to see their child thrive and win at life?”

“You’re right, of course, but I have to look at situations realistically.”

“And what’s real to you? What do you want to do with your life?”

I throw both shoulders up and say, “I don’t know.”

“That’s not true. You do know.”

“You’re right. I do, but unfortunately, it’s not what I’m going to get.”

“What do you want? Tell me.”

I sigh heavily. I don’t want to respond, but it’s her .

If it were anyone else, I would have changed the subject a long time ago.

After a drink of water, I say, “What I want is to be normal. I want to wake up in the morning without thinking if this is going to be the morning my life begins its downward spiral. I want to live like I’m living and not like I’m dying .

I really do want those things, but my mind—” I take a breather. “My mind is in a different place.”

“Where was your mind when you kissed me?”

I smirk. “It was in a much better place.”

“Okay, then. I don’t think almost an entire week should go by without us seeing each other. You’ve created this network of friends in your life, Judah. Use them. Use me . I’ll always be here for you.”

“You say that with confidence.”

“Because I am confident.”

I nod. “Okay.”

She glances at her watch. “Do you feel better?”

“I do.”

“Good, because unfortunately, I have to get back to work, but I would like to continue this conversation at your place tomorrow evening.”

“Uh…”

“It doesn’t have to be anything formal,” she says. “In fact, I’ll eat before I come over. I just want to spend some time with you.”

“Okay. That’s cool.”

“Text me your address,” she says.

“Yes, ma’am.” I take out my phone and send her a text with my address.

She confirms receipt, then takes out her credit card.

I say, “Put that away. I got the bill.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. You don’t pay for anything when I’m with you.”

She smiles, sliding her card back into her purse. “Thanks, Judah. I appreciate that.”

I stand up, place a fifty on the table, and say, “I’ll walk you out.”

Following her to the door, I dart ahead of her to push it open and then follow her to her car.

I’ve already decided I’m not going to cross the line with her again, even though I want to.

Even though I know her lips taste like candy and her body feels like heaven in my arms, I tell myself that I can’t take it there with her.

The decision pains me, but it’s for her own good.

It’s me being completely unselfish – putting her needs ahead of mine.

“I’ll see you later,” she says, then leans in and presses her lips to my face.

My eyes automatically close at the softness as I relive the way we were just a few days ago. It’s torture to think—to know—that I can’t have that again.

“Drive safe, Autumn.”

“I will, the whole five minutes.”