I wrap my arms around him as he walks me back until I feel the brick wall behind me.
“Cas,” I moan into his mouth.
“I’m crazy for you, Sunset,” he whispers, kissing down my neck, slow and deliberate, making me burn with need. His lips find mine again, and I lose myself in him under the glow of the string lights.
Maybe this is what he meant. Maybe this is what stealing the moon and stars feels like: holding something impossible in your arms and realizing it’s yours.
CHAPTER 19
Penelope
The car hums softly as we drive, tires crunching over the uneven gravel of the country road. I press my forehead to the window, staring at the fields stretching out under the low afternoon sun, though I’m not really looking. My chest feels hollow, a weight that’s been curled tight inside me for years pressing down. Eleven years since Mom died, and some mornings, grief wakes first. Today, it’s thick, clinging like fog.
I try to focus on the gold sunlight spilling over the fields, the distant hum of cicadas, the wind teasing strands of hair across my cheek, but my mind drifts back to her. Mom. Her laugh that could fill a room, the quiet strength in her hands, the way she made even the simplest moments feel sacred. I want to tell her about the store, to show her this next step, to hear her voice telling me it’s going to be okay. But she’s gone. Buried far away. And I want her so badly it hurts.
Cas glances at me, his eyes calm but sharp, seeing me too clearly. The car slows, gravel crunching beneath the tires until we roll to a stop at the side of the road. His hand brushes my shoulder, light but grounding. I force a smile, the reflex I learned long ago with Mark. “I’m fine,” I whisper.
But Cas isn’t Mark. He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over. His hands cup my face, warm and steady. “Sunset, talk to me.”
The world shrinks until it’s just him, me, the car, and the hum of the tires. My smile crumbles. Tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them. “I… I miss my mom,” I choke out.
He pulls me closer, and I let my body shudder against him. His fingers thread through my hair, and his other hand traces slow, soothing circles down my back. I sob harder than I have in years, letting the grief I buried for Mark finally rise.
“I just…” My voice shakes. “I woke up this morning so excited about the store. I wanted to tell her so badly…” My breath catches. “But I can’t.”
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Cas murmurs, low and unwavering. “You must miss her so much. I can’t even imagine not being able to talk to my mama. I wish I could bring her here for you.”
I hiccup, pressing my face harder against his chest. My hand brushes over the wet streaks running down his shirt. “Oh… Cas, I’m so sorry. I ruined your shirt.”
He glances down, shrugs, and presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “It doesn’t matter. Your heart needed to be free. That’s more important than a shirt.”
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in. His hands stay steady in my hair, tracing slow circles down my back, holding me like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. And in that moment, I realize something I’ve never felt before. No one has ever let me be this raw. Mark pushed me to hide, to smile, to be perfect. People usually turn away from pain, or they try to fix it with clichés. But Cas doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t tell me to stop. He doesn’t make my grief about him.
He just accepts me. All of me. The strong parts, the messy parts, the parts that ache and tear me apart. He makes room for it. And for the first time in years, my chest loosens. Someone finally sees all of me and still wants me.
I pull back just enough to look at him, tears streaking my cheeks. My voice is small and trembling. “I wish I could visit her grave so badly today.”
Cas pulls me closer again, his chest warm against mine. “I know, Sunset. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, voice low and steady. “I wish you could. I know how much you miss her.”
I let my forehead rest against his shoulder, letting the weight of my grief settle into his arms. “I just… I wanted her to see this next step,” I whisper.
“And she does,” Cas says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my hair. “She’s proud of you. And I’m proud of you too.”
???
The town spreads out before us as we drive in, sunlight dipping lower, spilling gold across brick buildings. My chest feels lighter, grief softened, though not gone. Anticipation flutters in my stomach. We pull up in front of the store Cas told me about. The big windows catch the fading light, scattering it across the sidewalk. The bell jingles as Cas pushes the door open, and the scent of fresh paint and old wood greets me.
I step inside, letting my fingers brush the smooth counter, the edge of the windowsill, imagining a tripod capturing someone’s smile, the soft click of a shutter echoing in the quiet space. The store is smaller than I imagined, but perfect. Warm light, open space, everything ready to be filled with my creativity.
“This is it,” Cas says, brushing his fingers against mine as he walks beside me. “I can see you here, doing your magic.”
I spin slowly, heart hammering. “I can imagine the lights here, the backgrounds there… Oh, a corner just for baby shoots.” My hands sketch the layout in the air, excitement building. “I love it. I can see it.”
“You really think I could do this?” My voice catches, fear edging the thrill. “I’m scared of messing it up.”
Cas tilts his head, eyes steady. “Sunset, I think there’s nothing you can’t do.”
Heat blooms in my chest. I squeeze his hand, leaning close. “How about pizza to celebrate?” I tease, needing something light after the storm in the car.
