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“Thanks, I hope so too,” she says, plucking a bunch of bananas and placing them in her cart. She looks back at me, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “How’s Tyler doing with his bull riding practice?”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of Tyler. “He’s… he’s doing great,” I manage to say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my sudden nervousness.
“And that cute little boy I saw you take to the movies last week?” she continues, pulling a head of lettuce from the pile. “Is he a relative of yours?”
“Oh, you mean Timmy,” I say quickly, feeling a blush creeping up my neck. “He’s just a friend’s child. I was doing a favor.”
Marie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press further. “How sweet of you,” she says warmly.
“Well, I must hurry and finish my shopping before it gets too late. It was lovely running into you, Marie.”
“You too, Sarah,” Marie smiles warmly at me with a nod. “I have some errands to run as well.”
We embrace again, the gesture brief but genuine. “You have a good day now,” she says, giving me one last smile before pushing her cart down the aisle.
“You too,” I mutter, as she walks away. I stand there momentarily, trying to steady the flurry of thoughts racing through my mind. Finally, I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the unexpected encounter and focus on my grocery list.
Marie's questions linger in my mind as I wheel my cart down the aisle, wrapping around my thoughts like a fast-growing vine. Why was she so interested in Tyler? Did she know something? Panic begins to bubble up inside me, my heart racing faster with each step.
I try to remember if there's been any moment when I was too familiar with Tyler—anything that might have given people the wrong idea. Being his therapist, it’s unethical to have a personal relationship with him, and yet there have always been unspoken feelings dancing between us that are hard to ignore.
Not to mention that we're in a relationship of some sort, and I'm practically living in his home.
My thoughts are interrupted by the memory of last week's movie outing with Timmy. At the time, it seemed like a harmless outing, a fun way to spend an afternoon.
But now, thinking back, I realize how many people from the town were there, children running up and down the aisles, parents chatting and undoubtedly observing. Good grief, Sarah, could you have picked a more public venue?
The more I replay the event, the more convinced I am that people like Marie must be talking. They might be speculating about my relationship with Tyler, piecing together fragments of encounters and weaving their narratives.
The thought makes me feel exposed, like every glance and smile I share with Tyler has been dissected and misinterpreted. It feels like a vice gripping my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I focus on my shopping list again, forcing myself to look at the mundane items—eggs, bread, milk—but Marie’s words echo loudly. The rumors could ruin everything I've worked hard for. I need to finish this grocery shopping quickly. The sooner I get out of here, the better. Being around other people now makes my palms sweaty and me immensely uncomfortable.
My hands tremble as I pick up a carton of eggs, trying to steady my shaky breath. In small towns like this, privacy is an illusion. Everyone knows everyone, or at least they think they do. My only option now is to be more careful, to ensure that nothing I do can be misinterpreted further.
However, I can't shake the feeling that the damage might already be done. I quicken my pace, my mind a storm of worries, keenly aware of the eyes that might still be watching.
I pull into the Parker residence, my heart pounding like a drum. The gravel under the tires crunches loudly in the otherwise serene afternoon, announcing my arrival. As I step out of the car, I try to calm myself, pushing the intrusive thoughts away.
I glance up, and there he is—Tyler, walking out of the house with that laid-back, effortless stride. He's quick to approach, his smile reassuring, but it does little to quell the turmoil inside me.
"Hey, let me help you with those," he says, his eyes twinkling as he reaches the trunk of my car.
"Thanks," I mutter, trying to force a smile. I pop the trunk, revealing the grocery bags tightly packed together. Together, we start unloading. I pick up two bags, grateful for the distraction of occupying my hands.
"How was the grocery store?" Tyler asks, breaking the silence as he grabs a couple of bags himself.
"It was... fine," I reply, avoiding eye contact and willing my voice steady. My mind replays Marie's words, and I wonder if Tyler has heard any of those rumors.
We walk side by side into the house, the cool air inside offering a slight relief from the thoughts swirling in my head. As we set down the first round of bags in the kitchen, Tyler tries again.
"You seem a bit off today. Did something happen?" His tone is gentle, filled with concern.
"Nothing, just tired," I answer curtly, returning to the car for more bags. I can feel his eyes on me, studying my every move.
With each trip back and forth, Tyler continues his attempts at casual conversation. "Did you see anyone you knew?" he asks on the next round.
"Not really," I respond, my tone clipped. I hope he'll take the hint, but he continues.
