P R I M R O S E

[primula vulgaris] ➳ neglect.

REALISTICALLY, IT WOULD TAKE Isaac five minutes at most to prick Elsie's finger and get her glucose reading. Maybe they'd need five more minutes to return to the banquet room, but no more than that.

There was no way they'd leave me here with Isaac's dad for more than ten minutes. That was the string of hope I held onto as I watched him flag down a waitress.

"Red or white, sir?" she asked when she found her way to our table. My interest piqued when I saw two bottles of wine. Isaac's dad indicated the red variety, and the waitress uncorked the bottle to top up his glass. 

Once finished, she gave me a quick once-over before she wheeled her cart away. And then I was alone with him again. 

"Sorry, where were we?" I tried to maintain my composure as we faced each other. For lack of wine or even coffee, I held my cup of water to my lips. "The animal shelter?"

"Yes," he agreed, sipping from his glass with a knot in his brow. I could tell he was genuine — that everything I had brought up earlier was truly new information to him. And I didn't understand how that was possible. 

Not knowing about Isaac's obsession with animals was like not knowing his name. 

"You seem like you've been a good influence on my son," said Isaac's dad. Not expecting this, I felt myself grow warm. "I'm glad he has someone like you in his life out there."

Since I'd learned about him, I'd thought of Isaac's dad as a heartless monster, who only interacted with his son at this party to save face. But despite his booming voice and imposing silhouette, he seemed to be making an effort to be kind.

Unless this was some kind of manipulation. "Thank you," I said, unsure if that would be a satisfactory response. Feeling brave, I added, "I didn't move to Newberry under the best circumstances either, so having him around has meant a lot to me."

He nodded, directing his attention to his wine glass. I took that as a hint and decided my best course of action was to finish eating as quickly as possible, then run off with Isaac before things got awkward again. I dug into the centerpiece on my plate — a chunk of salmon fillet.

Of course, Isaac's father picked this exact moment to speak. "When did you move to Newberry?"

"This past January." I hastily wiped my mouth with a napkin.

"Are you from the city?" When I nodded, he chuckled. "That must've been a difficult adjustment. It wasn't such a drastic change for Isaac. He grew up in a small town, and only lived in the city briefly when his mother and I separated. He was eager to return to something familiar, and picked Newberry for God knows what reason."

"It's good that you're here, Ren," he continued, motioning to me with his elbow on the table. "I could be reaching — and you can let me know if I am — but I believe you've been able to give Isaac some perspective."

I tried not to frown. "Why do you think that?" 

He shrugged, all casual, as though this wasn't a bizarre conversation to be having upon first meeting my boyfriend's dad. "I assume you're not the biggest fan of your current living situation?" 

I considered it. Small towns sucked sometimes; Newberry's born and bred stuck together like a mob, and their ugliest sides had showed when they'd all turned on Isaac at once. But I sort of liked how the buildings didn't tower over the trees and I could see the stars in the sky at night.

It took me too long to respond, so Isaac's dad said what I was thinking. "It's not all bad. If you're a fan of gossip, there's always something going on. If you drive, there's less traffic for sure. But in a place like that, you can get caught up in a cycle without even realizing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you haven't lived in Newberry long enough to understand." Another sip of wine. "But people who are born in those places tend to die there too."

I tried not to sound like I was challenging him. "And people who move to those places?"

"They either get sucked into the cycle, or they never fully integrate in the first place." Isaac's father leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together as he lifted a thick eyebrow at me, amusement creeping to his features. "You can disagree with me if you like, Ren." 

"I don't disagree," I found myself saying.

"Good," he said. "So we're on the same page." 

Except that I had no idea what he was talking about, or what the point of any of that had been. 

I was struck by how our conversation seemed to move in circles, too. But then cognizance crashed down on me, and in true city-dweller fashion I swore I could hear the screeching and burning of tires against tarmac as our steady plodding-along came to a halt. 

I sucked in my breath. "You don't want Isaac to live in Newberry anymore?"

Isaac's dad wore no distinguishable expression, though his features softened slightly as we both processed what I'd just said.

Then he nodded. "I think it would be best if he left it behind. Especially now that I know he works at an animal shelter, I want to give him all the opportunities I can. He has potential, and our house has a spare room."

"With all due respect," I said slowly, "He's eighteen. If you want him to move back in with you... it might be too late."

Isaac's father directed his next words to the empty chairs between us. Looking me in the eye was like more of a guilt trip than anything I could say.

"Of course, he's still thinking on my offer." He scratched the stubble on his chin. "But I want to give him a chance to live in the real world; he's barely been able to experience it. Hell, I'd be happy if he moved to Toronto by himself or something, honestly. As his father, I just can't let that town cage him in."

Nauseous, I gulped down my glass of water. 

I knew he was right. Even though my parents had moved to Newberry to start their lives over, it wasn't the end of the road for me. I planned to graduate high school and go to a big-name university... but Isaac probably didn't have the same future in his sightline. Not right now.

For some reason, my thoughts travelled back to Jackie Merritt. My dad really wants his kids to go into business too. He thinks it's the only way to get out of Newberry without getting a degree.

Did everyone in Newberry secretly agree? All along, I had assumed that I was the only person in a thirty-mile radius who felt trapped. But maybe everyone else had been thinking the same thing. The only difference was that I had plenty of potential to break out, while some of them were genuinely stuck.

This was Isaac's chance to escape.

"Why —" I cut myself off. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry, but Isaac's told me his side of the story, and... it just sounds like you've had a change of heart since the last time you saw him."

He chuckled again, running his fingers along the stem of his glass. "Our family has been through a lot," he said quietly, almost inaudible over the din of the banquet room. I ran through a play-by-play in my head: the divorce, the re-marriages, the disappearance of Elsie's husband, the recurring issues of Isaac's ADHD and bad grades.

And that was just the stuff I knew about.

"He used to be a handful," Isaac's father continued. "And he still might be. But he's older now, and more receptive to forgiving me for the problems we faced when he was a kid."

My whole body stilled and went heavy, like his words had seeped through my skin and drenched me down to the bones. He added, "And it seems he and I have more common ground than I thought."

He looked at me expectantly, but I was tongue-tied and clueless. "Sorry. Isaac hasn't told me much about you."

Chuckling, he made a gesture meant to wave my worries away. All it really did, though, was amplify them ten-fold. "What about the fact that I'm a veterinarian?" 

I shook my head. I wondered if eating my salmon now would make me puke, or if it would help fill the empty space that had opened up in my chest when my heart had dropped out of my body.

It was selfish, but I couldn't imagine myself living in Newberry for another year without Isaac at my side. None of the things that made our town bearable would be the same without him. He'd left his mark on everything, from the flowers in my garden to the sunset-silhouettes he'd burned into my memory.

"Sorry that took forever," came Isaac's voice from behind me. I forced myself to look at him as he wheeled his grandmother back into her place at the table. His shirt had acquired a few new crinkles, but he looked happier than he had been minutes ago.

Had he left me here on purpose so I could hear about his departure from his father? Had he been too afraid to say I'm leaving to my face?

"We thought we'd left the meter at home, but it was in Grandma's purse the whole time," Isaac added. He shot me a look, but it was his father who laughed at the anecdote.

I could've been imagining it, but their interactions grew more fluid as dinner wore on. It was a sure sign that Isaac was warming up to his father, and to the idea of leaving Newberry for good. 

And how could I blame him?

Elsie told us another story about a time she had lost her glucose meter as we finished our meals. Isaac fell quiet towards the end, but I tried my best to ignore the tension screaming through his body language. No doubt it would only intensify my own anxieties.

The lady in pink stood at the front of the banquet room again, using the mic to announce that desserts had just been laid out. Isaac stood up, wiggling his eyebrows. "Want something sweet, Ren?"

I glanced around the table, but Elsie shook her head, and his father waved at another waitress, having finished his glass of wine. Biting my lip, I said, "Sure."

Rising from my seat, I shuffled to Isaac's side as though I was planning to follow him to the dessert table. But then the rest of the crowd encased us, and he distracted himself with the queue for the chocolate cake, leaving me several paces behind.  

Recognizing my chance, I slipped away and made a beeline for the back door.

A cool wind whipped through my hair, running parallel to the long patio that stretched the width of the building. Walking past the outdoor seating, I leaned over the railing, looking out at the vast expanse of the golf course. It ended with a line of trees that choked the horizon and blocked the rest of the city from view.

I blinked down at my high heels, then stepped onto the grass, lifting my head to search the sky above me. It was dark and empty. I trudged farther out. I didn't know how golf worked, but I hoped nobody was planning to lob a ball my way. My head already hurt, and even in the quiet out here I couldn't tell if I still had a heart. 

The summer warmth settled comfortably on my skin when I knelt down. I was too tired to stand, but too finicky to sit on the ground while wearing a dress. I opened my clutch, pulled out my phone, and wondered if it would be inappropriate for me to scroll through my Instagram feed right now to try to silence my thoughts.

In lieu of a conclusion, I covered my mouth before a broken sound could slide out of my throat. 

Isaac and I only been together for a month, though that didn't stop my chest from clenching or my stomach from bottoming out, stupidly. Only days before, I had possessed enough strength to leave Anthony's memory behind.

But now I was weak again.

Or maybe I was just willing to fall for Isaac's crooked smile and the way the sky bent its sunbeams just to catch a spot on him. My willingness was a kind of strength too, and I knew it. Letting him in had been act of pure courage, and even if it all ended now, I had every reason to be proud of myself.

So when I saw Isaac standing next to me, his shirt billowing in the breeze, I let him take my hand, and waited for him to speak.