“Luke Skywalker was dead the whole time and he was spiritually bound to that island. That’s why he refused to go back with Rey.”
Marcy scoffed. “That’s dumb. Why didn’t he just tell her?”
Roger slowly licked his ice cream cone. “Mmmm. For the same reason that the Beast couldn’t just tell Belle that he was under a spell.”
“Uh-huh. And what reason is that?”
He swung his ice cream in a broad gesture. “Plot—-”
The scoop flew out of its cone cave and slopped onto Marcy’s shirt.
“Oops! Sorry.” He glanced around the boardwalk as if he were hoping to see a mobile paper towel dispenser walking on by.
“Rog. Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it off later.”
He stopped his frantic and futile search. “Really?”
“Yeah. I know that there’s a bathroom at th—”
Her mouth kept going on and on, but Roger didn’t hear a word. He looked at her with the ice cream glomming its way down her shirt and he realized an amazing truth.
I love her.
The truth blossomed and grew.
I have always loved her. I just never knew it for sure until now.
Marcy stopped in mid-sentence. “What? What’s wrong?”
But I’m not ready to tell her yet. I want to be sure of her feelings before I speak. Until then, I don’t want to ruin what we have right now. This natural and easy banter between us.
If I tell her I love her, it will change everything.
It might ruin everything and make us awkward around each other.
I’m not ready.
“Rog?” She touched his arm. “You okay?”
He smiled at her touch. “Yeah. I’m good.”