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Aurora poked her finger on the spinning wheel.
Elsa, let it go – literally.
Cinderella lost her shoe.
… And Giselle had spicy ketchup.
Lame.
“Excuse me a moment,” she said quickly, moving out of the classroom. The moment she was in the hallway, she bolted for the bathroom because she was going to freakin’ cry. What was wrong with her that things would be so good one moment and then so far off the next?
A sob escaped her brokenly, causing her to yank some paper towels from the dispenser, quickly wetting them. She pressed the cold, wet towels to her cheeks to keep them from getting splotchy.
Austin was so sweet, so kind, so wonderful… and so thoughtful, but it just felt so pathetic that it was ketchup that made her so stupidly happy. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the ketchup, but that he listened, cared, acted, and it was all for her happiness.
Ketchup.
Was this actually her pivotal moment?
Did her fairytale involve ketchup?
“Giselle?”
“I’ll be out in a moment,” she said simply and took several deep breaths, trying to pull herself back together. No, this was something she would need to be patient about – and if spicy ketchup was her moment, the moment that everything changed?
She would never use any other condiment — ever.
Relax, she thought to herself. Focus on the sweet moments and quit holding your breath for more. Maybe he was just slow to make a move because he wanted things to be right between them.
What if Austin was backpedaling because he felt pressured, too? She was taking him to meet her parents. His friends were asking baldly about his future – and hers? It was all just a lot and combined with the jetlag? She was a mess… and imagined he was too.
Letting out a shaky breath, she wiped her face once more… and opened the bathroom door only to see Austin standing there, leaning back against the wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked positively miserable…
His dark eyes met hers, and she teared up again.
Austin pushed off the wall, put a hand on her shoulder, and pressed her back into the bathroom, locking them inside. He gathered her into his arms, holding and hugging her closely… whispering to her.
“Talk to me…” he urged softly.
“I guess I’m just tired.”
“Is that what’s wrong?”
“No,” she whimpered, burying her face against his shirt and neck. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she uttered, muffled against him. “I think there’s been enough talking.”
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he said softly, kissing her forehead. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed because I’m not the best planner. I mean, I’ve been so focused on us getting here, seeing each other, and going to your parents, that I never looked past that… and that’s my fault.”
She pulled back and looked at him.
“They mean well,” she whispered in a hushed voice, looking at him. “And they are so incredibly nice… but they are pushy. I don’t even know what a medic does in the real world. I mean, I guess I’m an EMT or a nurse? There’s testing and licenses – and the military handled everything for me. I didn’t have to depend onmefiguring it out.”
She took a deep breath, swallowing back her anxieties, before continuing now that the floodgates were opening wide.
“I had no idea that people like us buy airplanes. We follow orders, get transferred to places. I can’t even fathom actually having a permanent residence and…” her voice trailed off as she tried to slide back into his arms for another hug, burying her face once more – but he held her away.
“And ‘what’?” he encouraged softly, his voice full of emotion. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t yet,” she whispered openly, looking at him. “I’m so scared because you are so close to me, so special, that I don’t want to ever push or force you into anything you would regret.”
