Chapter 8: first outing

The sun was lower in the sky, casting a golden glow across the city streets. Abigail checked her reflection in the café window before leaving. Her sweater was a little too big, her jeans worn, and her hair pulled back in a loose braid, but she didn’t care. She felt…lighter. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of anticipation.

She stepped out onto the street and saw him immediately. James was leaning against a lamppost, hands in pockets, a crooked smile on his face.

“You’re late,” he said, mock-serious.

“I’m… fashionably late,” she replied, trying to sound confident, though her stomach was doing somersaults.

“Right. Fashionably late. I’ll accept that excuse,” he said, stepping aside to let her pass.

They walked in comfortable silence at first, each step echoing slightly on the empty sidewalk. The kind of quiet that didn’t feel awkward, just…shared.

“So, where are we going?” Abigail asked, curiosity teasing her.

“You’ll see,” he said, spinning on his heel and grinning like a child about to reveal a secret.

They turned a corner and found themselves in front of a small amusement park tucked between two old buildings. The rides weren’t massive or intimidating, but they had an old charm—bright colors, soft lights, and the faint smell of popcorn and candy.

Abigail blinked. “I…didn’t know this was here.”

“Yeah,” James said, taking her hand briefly before letting go. “I come here sometimes when I need to…forget the real world for a little while.”

She studied him. There was something vulnerable in that admission, something human that didn’t fit the perfect image she had of him.

“Forget the real world?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “Even just for an hour or two. You know, ride a Ferris wheel, eat a funnel cake, pretend nothing hurts for a while.”

Abigail smiled softly. “I think I like the sound of that.”

They wandered through the park, James explaining each ride and snack stand like it was a secret only he knew. Abigail laughed more in that hour than she had in the last month combined. They shared a funnel cake, sugar dusting their fingers, and James made a joke about it being “weaponized sugar” that could turn her into a laughing maniac if she wasn’t careful.

“You think I can handle it?” she asked, playfully narrowing her eyes.

“Only one way to find out,” he said, grinning.

Later, they got on a Ferris wheel. The seats swayed slightly as it rose, giving Abigail a mild thrill. She held onto the bar tightly, feeling James’ hand brush hers accidentally—or maybe not so accidentally.

“Don’t look down,” he whispered, leaning slightly closer.

“I can’t help it,” she said, laughing nervously. “I’m terrified of heights!”

“Then I’ll hold your hand,” he said simply. “You won’t fall.”

Her heart thumped as their hands intertwined. It was a small touch, nothing dramatic, but it sent warmth through her chest.

“You always make things feel…easier,” she said, looking at him.

James shrugged, cheeks coloring faintly. “I try. But sometimes…people are just easy to care about.”

Abigail blinked, caught off guard. “Easy to…care about?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking out at the city lights as the Ferris wheel creaked upward. “Some people make you want to be better, to laugh more, to just…exist without constantly worrying. You’re one of those people, Abby.”

Her chest tightened, and she looked down at their hands. She didn’t know why his words hit her so hard, but they did.

After the ride, they walked along a small food stand row, trying weird snacks and laughing at James’ overly dramatic reactions to anything spicy or sour. The ease between them was intoxicating, like they had known each other far longer than just a few encounters.

At one point, a street performer played a soft tune on a violin nearby. James paused, tilting his head. “Dance?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

Abigail raised an eyebrow. “Here? On the street?”

“Yeah. Right here. No one’s judging. I promise.”

She laughed and let him pull her gently into a sway. It was clumsy at first—two people unsure—but soon the rhythm felt natural. The music, the lights, the warmth of his hand on hers—it all felt like a temporary escape from everything dark in her life.

“You know,” Abigail whispered as the song ended, “I didn’t expect…this. Not today, not ever.”

James looked at her, eyes soft. “Me neither. But I’m glad it happened.”

She felt the corner of her lips lift into a genuine smile. It had been so long since she’d felt this light, this…alive.

As the evening wound down, they sat on a bench at the edge of the park, sharing a large chocolate milkshake with two straws. Abigail leaned her head slightly against his shoulder.

“You’re…different,” she said quietly. “Not in a bad way. Just…you make it easier to…feel things again.”

James smiled, turning slightly to brush a stray hair from her face. “I’m glad. That’s the idea, really. To make it easier to feel…even if it’s scary.”

Abigail’s heart thumped in her chest. She wanted to say something monumental, but the right words wouldn’t come. Instead, she rested her hand over his on the milkshake cup and just…held it.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?”

“For…everything. Tonight, you made me forget the pain, just for a little while.”

James didn’t answer with words. He just leaned slightly closer, their foreheads almost touching, eyes locked in a quiet understanding. It wasn’t a kiss. Not yet. But it was something—something that said, I’m here. I’m not leaving. You’re safe.

And for Abigail, that was enough.

By the time they left the park, the sky was dark, and the city lights reflected off wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. They walked together, side by side, hands brushing occasionally. Neither spoke for a while, both savoring the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

As they reached the street corner near Abigail’s apartment, she turned to him.

“Tonight…was amazing.”

James smiled softly. “Yeah. It really was. And, uh…maybe we can do it again?”

Abigail’s heart lifted, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”

He grinned, stepping back reluctantly. “Good. I’ll call you. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” she confirmed.

And as Abigail watched him walk away, she realized something terrifying and wonderful at the same time: she was…looking forward to seeing him again.