Lanterns in the Rain

Chapter Thirty-Five: Shadows of Doubt

The walk back from the lake was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Rae felt Henry’s hand in hers, his grip warm and steady, grounding her even as her thoughts swirled. The moment by the lake had been perfect, and yet, as they walked beneath the dim glow of the streetlights, Rae couldn’t help but feel the familiar whisper of doubt creeping in. 

Could something this good really last? 

Henry glanced at her as they approached the edge of town, his dark eyes catching the faint light. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

Rae hesitated. Part of her wanted to brush the question off, to say everything was fine. But Henry had a way of looking at her—like he could see past her defenses. It was both comforting and terrifying. 

“I’m just… overthinking,” she admitted, her voice quiet. 

Henry chuckled softly. “I’d never have guessed.” 

She shot him a look, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a reluctant smile. 

“I mean it,” he said more seriously. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell me. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep it all in.” 

Rae stopped walking, her gaze fixed on the ground. For a moment, the words felt caught in her throat, heavy and unwieldy. But then she looked up at Henry, at the quiet patience in his expression, and something inside her cracked open. 

“What if I’m not enough?” she blurted out. The words sounded louder than she intended, hanging in the cool night air. 

Henry’s brow furrowed, and he stepped closer, his hand still holding hers. “Rae…” 

“I mean it,” she continued, her voice trembling. “What if I can’t be the person you need me to be? What if I push you away without meaning to? What if—” 

“Stop,” Henry said softly, cutting her off. 

She blinked at him, startled. 

“You don’t have to be perfect, Rae,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, or say the right things all the time. I’m here because I want to be. Because *you*—exactly as you are—are enough.” 

Rae felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the sincerity in his words overwhelming. She looked away, embarrassed, but Henry gently cupped her face, guiding her gaze back to his. 

“Rae,” he murmured, his voice soft. “I’m not going anywhere. And if you ever doubt that, just tell me. We’ll figure it out together, okay?” 

She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. 

Henry smiled, leaning down to press a light kiss to her forehead. The gesture was simple, but it sent a wave of warmth through her, chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. 

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand again. “Let’s get you home.” 

The rest of the walk was quiet, but this time, it wasn’t filled with unease. Rae felt lighter somehow, like a part of her that had been tightly wound for so long had finally started to loosen. 

When they reached her house, Rae turned to Henry, her heart pounding. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Henry tilted his head, his smile soft. “For what?” 

“For… staying. For being patient with me,” she said. 

He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. “Rae, you don’t have to thank me for that. I care about you. That’s not going to change.” 

She felt her cheeks flush, her heart swelling at his words. Before she could overthink it, she leaned up and kissed him. It wasn’t planned or hesitant—just a moment of pure feeling, a way to express what she couldn’t put into words. 

When she pulled back, Henry was smiling, his eyes bright with surprise and affection. “That was unexpected,” he said, his tone teasing but warm. 

Rae bit her lip, her cheeks burning. “Good unexpected?” 

“The best,” he said, his voice soft. 

As she stepped inside her house, Rae couldn’t stop the small smile that lingered on her lips. The doubt wasn’t entirely gone, but it felt quieter now, overshadowed by something stronger—hope. 

And for the first time in a long while, Rae felt like maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to believe in something bigger than her fears.