Updated Feb 20, 2026 • ~5 min read
LUCIA
I wear a blue dress.
Simple. Elegant.
The kind of dress that says “I’m trying but not too hard.”
West picks me up at eleven.
He’s in a suit.
He looks incredible.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself.”
The drive to Beacon Hill is comfortable.
We talk about his week.
About my writing.
About nothing important.
It feels normal.
Like we’re a real couple.
Maybe we are.
WESTLEY
The community center looks perfect.
The space I’ve been working on for two years is finally finished.
And Lucia is here to see it.
“West, this is amazing,” she breathes, looking up at the building.
“You said that last time you were here.”
“It’s even more amazing finished.”
Pride swells in my chest.
Not just for the building.
For sharing this moment with her.
City council members are here.
The mayor.
Local press.
It’s a bigger deal than I expected.
“Nervous?” Lucia asks.
“A little.”
“You’ll be great.”
She squeezes my hand.
I don’t let go.
LUCIA
West gives a speech.
Talks about community.
About creating spaces for connection.
About building things that last.
I watch him.
The way he commands the room.
The passion in his voice.
I fall in love with him all over again.
After the ribbon cutting, people come up to congratulate him.
I step back.
Give him space.
But he reaches for my hand.
Pulls me next to him.
“This is Lucia,” he tells people. “My girlfriend.”
Girlfriend.
He called me his girlfriend.
My heart soars.
WESTLEY
We tour the building.
She asks questions.
About the design choices.
The materials.
The inspiration.
She actually cares.
Not pretend-caring like before.
Real caring.
“This room is my favorite,” I say, leading her to the library.
Floor-to-ceiling windows. Natural light flooding in.
Shelves waiting to be filled with books.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.
“I designed it thinking about you.”
She turns.
“What?”
“After our conversation at that bookstore. About you loving to read. I wanted to create a space that felt like that. Like hope.”
She’s crying.
“West…”
“Too much?”
“No. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
I wipe her tears.
“I’m not perfect. But I’m trying.”
“That’s all I need.”
LUCIA
We grab lunch at a food truck outside.
Sit on the lawn.
Watch kids play basketball on the new outdoor courts.
“You did this,” I say. “You built something that will matter to so many people.”
“We did it. The whole team.”
“But it was your vision.”
He smiles.
“Thanks.”
“I’m serious. You’re incredibly talented, West.”
“So are you.”
“I work at a coffee shop.”
“You’re a writer. That’s a gift.”
“I’ve never finished a novel.”
“You will. I believe in you.”
The way he says it—
Like it’s fact.
Like there’s no doubt.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For believing in me when I don’t believe in myself.”
He takes my hand.
“That’s what partners do.”
Partners.
I like the sound of that.
WESTLEY
We spend the afternoon at the center.
Helping set up.
Arranging furniture.
Organizing books for the library.
Lucia is in her element.
Sorting books by genre.
Making recommendations.
Chatting with volunteers.
“She’s good,” Jonah says, appearing next to me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to support my big brother. And meet the girlfriend.”
He’s smirking.
“Be nice.”
“When am I not nice?”
I give him a look.
“Fine. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
He walks over to Lucia.
I watch nervously.
JONAH
“Hey, Lucia.”
She looks up from the books.
“Jonah. Hi.”
“Need help?”
“Uh, sure. Grab those YA novels?”
We work in silence for a minute.
Then I say what I came to say.
“I was wrong about you.”
She stops.
“What?”
“At the beginning. I thought you were playing my brother. Using him. I was wrong.”
“You were protecting him. That wasn’t wrong.”
“Still. I’m sorry for making things harder.”
She smiles.
“Apology accepted.”
“He really loves you, you know.”
“I love him too.”
“I can tell. The way you look at him—it’s real.”
“It is. It always was.”
“I believe you.”
She goes back to sorting books.
I help.
And I think: Yeah, she’s going to be good for him.
LUCIA
At the end of the day, West drives me home.
We’re both exhausted.
Happy-exhausted.
“Thank you for coming today,” he says.
“Thank you for inviting me. For calling me your girlfriend.”
“Is that okay? I didn’t ask first.”
“It’s more than okay.”
He grins.
“Good.”
At my door, he walks me up.
We stand there.
Close.
So close.
“West?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
His eyes darken.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He cups my face.
Leans in slowly.
Giving me time to change my mind.
I don’t.
His lips meet mine.
Soft. Tentative.
Like a question.
I answer by kissing him back.
Deeper. More certain.
This is real.
This is us.
No lies. No pretending.
Just Lucia and West.
WESTLEY
I pull back.
Rest my forehead against hers.
“Worth the wait?”
She laughs.
“So worth it.”
“Same time next week?”
“Actually—”
“Actually?”
“I was hoping we could do this more than once a week.”
My heart races.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. If you want.”
“I want.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay.”
I kiss her again.
Because I can.
Because she’s mine.
Because we’re starting over.
And this time, we’re doing it right.
END OF CHAPTER 17
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