Five Days Out

Five days until the Willow Creek Summer Festival, and the town square had reached that magical tipping point where it looked almost ready for its big moment. The booths gleamed with fresh paint, the fairy lights created soft glowing canopies overhead, and the main stage stood proud with its new banners fluttering gently in the breeze. The kids’ zone was a riot of color, the fishing pond fully assembled, and the ring-toss game looked perfectly aligned thanks to endless measurements.

We arrived mid-afternoon as the usual trio. Amina was buzzing with last-minute ideas for the photo booth, Lena already waiting for her at the station. Mrs. Delgado spotted us and waved her clipboard enthusiastically.

“Marvelous timing! Elias, the stage needs one final sound check. Amina, Lena is calling for you on signage tweaks. Zara, the ring-toss needs your final approval on heights.”

The group settled into its comforting, familiar rhythm. Lena and Amina were laughing over glitter placement at the photo booth. Tyler and Marcus were testing the stability of the fishing pond stakes. Sarah arranged books under a canopy while Mia practiced face-paint designs on her own arm, giggling at the results.

I knelt in the grass making the final ring-toss adjustments. Elias worked nearby on the stage, his Henley clinging to his back with effort. Every time he reached overhead, my eyes traced the strong lines of his body, remembering how those same arms had held me so tightly the night before.

Amina dropped down beside me, marker in hand. “Okay, I’m serious now. You’ve been glowing, but also kind of distant. If there’s someone special, you have to tell me before the festival. I want to meet him. Best-friend code.”

My brush slipped again. I fixed the line quickly, heart racing. “No one. Just happy to be home.”

She narrowed her eyes but let it go when Mrs. Delgado called her away to the signage team. The guilt twisted sharper today. Every easy laugh with Amina felt like another thread unraveling in our friendship.

Lunch was the usual casual spread on the grass — sandwiches, fruit, and lemon bars. The group sprawled on blankets, conversation flowing. Tyler told another funny dating story, making everyone laugh. Mia leaned over.

“You seem really content lately, Zara. Summer is doing wonders for you.”

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing brightness. “It’s good being back with everyone.”

Elias sat a short distance away with Marcus and Tyler, but his foot found mine under the blanket again — that steady, possessive contact that had become our secret language. His pinky brushed my ankle, a silent reminder that he was always there, always wanting me close.

After lunch the work continued. I helped Amina and Lena with the final photo booth touches. We posed for silly test photos, arms around each other, laughing when the lights flickered in rainbow patterns. Elias wandered over under the pretense of checking the wiring.

“Looks perfect,” he said casually. When Amina stepped away for more tape, he slipped inside the tight space with me.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered, backing me gently against the backdrop. His hand settled on my waist, thumb stroking bare skin. “Seeing you laugh with Amina, looking so carefree… I want to pull you somewhere private and remind you exactly who you belong to.”

His forehead rested against mine. “Tonight. My room. I need to hold you again. Feel your heartbeat against mine. These days are slipping away too fast.”

“Elias,” I breathed. “We’re pushing our luck every single day.”

“I know.” His voice was rough with need and something deeper. “But I can’t stop needing you, Zara. You’re becoming my everything.”

Mia’s voice called from outside. “Zara? You in there?”

We sprang apart. Elias stepped out first, calm as ever. “Just checking the lights.”

I followed, cheeks warm. Mia raised an eyebrow but smiled. “You and Mr. Carter have been spending a lot of time together lately.”

“Festival stuff,” I mumbled.

The afternoon passed without further incidents, but the tension never eased. Every brush of Elias’s hand, every lingering look across the grass, every quiet “good job” murmured when no one was listening — it all built the ache and the guilt higher.

By five o’clock Mrs. Delgado called it a day. “Excellent work, everyone! Only five days left. Rest up and come back ready.”

We drove home in comfortable silence. Amina scrolled festival photos in the backseat while Elias’s hand rested on the gear shift, his pinky brushing my thigh at every stop. The small touches had become constant, clingy, reassuring.

At the house Amina headed upstairs for a shower. “I’m wiped. Movie night tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” I said.

The moment her door closed, Elias pulled me into the hallway shadows. His arms came around me from behind, holding me tight.

“I hate this pretending,” he whispered against my hair. “Smiling and nodding while all I want is to kiss you in front of the whole town and tell them you’re mine.”

His hands stroked my arms, possessive and gentle. “Come to my room tonight. Let me hold you. I need you close after another day of almost getting caught.”

I nodded.

We moved upstairs quietly. In his bedroom he undressed me slowly, kissing every inch of revealed skin. Then he stripped himself and pulled me into his bed. Skin to skin, his body curled around mine protectively. One leg thrown over me, his hand splayed across my stomach.

For a long time we breathed together in the quiet.

“I’m falling harder every day,” he admitted softly. “The thought of you going back to college in a few weeks terrifies me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep without you in my arms anymore.”

His voice cracked slightly. This strong, steady man who had raised his daughter alone was clinging to me like I was the first real light he’d found in years.

I pressed closer. “I’m scared too. But I don’t want to stop this.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Then we won’t. Not yet. We’ll be careful. But every night you’re here, it feels like the only thing that makes sense anymore.”

As sleep pulled at me, wrapped in Elias’s warmth, the rain began tapping the roof again — soft and steady.

Five days until the festival lights would shine.

Five days until the town would celebrate together.

And with every tender night, every whispered confession, every clingy touch hidden in plain sight, the secret between us was becoming impossible to contain much longer.