The Wrong Kind of Rescue
Chapter 14 - The Wrong Kind of Rescue
Jonah surprised me by asking whether I wanted dinner after a late rehearsal. We had been spending more time together, mostly discussing booking schedules and broken microphones. I had noticed his kindness without allowing myself to imagine much beyond it.
"I don't know if I'm ready," I said.
He smiled. "For dinner?"
"For anything complicated."
"Then we can get soup and talk about the weather."
I laughed. We went to a little restaurant overlooking the harbor. He told me about his younger sister, who worked as a paramedic, and about his first failed business, an event-photography company that had lasted precisely eleven months.
"I was terrible at marketing," he admitted. "But I was good at making people comfortable. So I kept that part."
I told him about teaching, about Mom, and about how embarrassed I felt when my wedding became a public joke.
Jonah listened without promising to fix anything.
That mattered.
When he walked me to the car, he asked if I'd like to do it again sometime. I thought about my old habit of saying yes when I was afraid of disappointing someone.
"Maybe," I said. "I'd like to go slowly."
"Then slowly it is."
He smiled, said good night, and walked away.
May you like
Driving home, I realized I had enjoyed the evening because I hadn't spent it trying to earn approval. I could tell the truth about my uncertainty and still be welcome.
For the first time, the future felt open rather than empty.
