Through the Glass

Chapter 8

Connor stood just outside the dining hall, hands stuffed into his pockets as he took a deep breath. The breeze that swept through the retreat grounds was cool, carrying with it the crispness of early autumn. There was a stillness to the moment that Connor appreciated, though his thoughts were far from calm. The morning had stirred up memories he hadn't expected to confront, and now, meeting Eliza for lunch, he felt the weight of everything they'd both been through hanging between them.

Inside, the dining hall buzzed with activity. Plates clattered, conversations hummed, and the warm, savory scent of lunch filled the air. As Connor entered, he scanned the room, searching for Eliza. She was easy to spot, sitting at a small table by the window. Her dark hair caught the sunlight streaming through the glass, giving her an almost ethereal glow. She looked thoughtful, her gaze distant as she stared out the window.

Connor approached quietly, not wanting to startle her. When he reached the table, Eliza looked up, a small smile playing on her lips. "Hey," she said softly, as though the noise of the dining hall couldn't quite reach them.

"Hey," Connor replied, sliding into the seat across from her. He placed his hands on the table, fingers drumming lightly as he took her in. The quiet intensity in her gaze mirrored his own feelings—like they were both navigating uncharted waters.

"I'm glad you could make it," Eliza said, her smile growing a little wider. There was something in her voice, a hint of relief maybe, as though she'd been unsure if he'd actually show up.

Connor chuckled. "Wouldn't miss it."

They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the dining hall fading into the background. Connor glanced down at his hands, noticing how tightly they were clasped together. He forced himself to relax, but his mind was racing. The connection he felt with Eliza was undeniable, but it was also unfamiliar territory. He wasn't used to opening up, especially not this easily.

"So," Eliza began, breaking the silence. "What do you think? Is this retreat what you were hoping for so far?"

Connor let out a breath, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Honestly, I didn't really know what I was hoping for when I signed up," he admitted. "My friend Max kind of pushed me into it. Said it would help me get my head straight."

Eliza nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, I didn't exactly come here by choice either. My best friend practically dragged me here."

Connor raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Sounds like we both have friends who don't take no for an answer."

Eliza chuckled, the sound light and genuine. "Yeah, Sarah can be pretty persuasive when she wants to be."

They fell into a comfortable silence, each of them sipping their coffee as they considered the conversation so far. Connor felt a little more at ease now, like the tension that had been following him all morning had finally started to lift. There was something about Eliza—her presence, the way she seemed to understand without prying—that made him feel safe.

"What about you?" Connor asked after a moment. "Why did your friend think you needed this retreat?"

Eliza hesitated, her fingers brushing over the rim of her cup. "I guess she thinks I've been burning out for a while. I've been working a lot, taking care of everyone else, and I guess I stopped taking care of myself somewhere along the way."

Connor nodded, understanding all too well. "It's easy to do that. Especially when it feels like everything else is more important."

Eliza looked at him, her expression softening even more. "Exactly."

The silence between them stretched out again, but this time it wasn't awkward. It felt like they were both giving each other space to think, to process. Connor found himself reflecting on his own reasons for being here. Max had pushed him to attend, but the truth was, he'd known for a while that something had to change. His anxiety had been getting worse, and the pressure to keep everything together—his music, his life—was becoming unbearable.