The hallway upstairs smells faintly of cedar and lemon polish, the kind of clean that feels lived-in instead of sterile. Lily walks ahead of me, her steps quick, apron strings still tied at her waist. Cas follows behind, steady as always, his boots soft against the wood.
When we reach the end of the hall, Lily pushes open a door with a bright little smile.“Here we are. It’s not much, but it’s yours for as long as you want it.”
I step inside and freeze. The room is small but beautiful, the kind of space that feels like it could heal you just by existing. A quilt the color of summer fields spreads across the bed, lace curtains flutter in the night breeze from the open window, and a little lamp on the dresser casts the whole room in golden light. A bathroom connects on the side, its clawfoot tub peeking out like something from a dream.
My eyes sting. I can’t remember the last time I walked into a room that felt safe.
When I set my bag down, Lily’s gaze flicks toward it, just one small backpack and my camera bag. Something flickers across her face, soft and knowing, but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she claps her hands together.“Now, you must be tired, but you can’t sleep in those clothes. I’ll be right back.”
Before I can argue, she’s gone, footsteps retreating down the stairs.
Cas leans against the doorframe, arms folded, watching me with those eyes that catch too much.“She’ll be back with half the house if you let her,” he drawls, dimples flashing.
I bite back a smile, brushing my hand over the quilt.“It’s beautiful.”
“She takes pride in this place.” His voice softens.“So do I.”
Cas looks behind him and Lily bustles back through the door with a stack of folded clothes.“Just something soft for tonight, and some spare clothes for tomorrow,” she announces, as if daring me to refuse. She sets them gently at the foot of the bed, then cups my cheek like she’s known me forever.“Rest now, Penny. You’re safe here.”
Safe. The word slices through me, sharp and tender all at once.
“Thank you, Lily,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat.
She squeezes my hand, gives Cas a look only a mother can, and slips out of the room.
Silence falls, thick and heavy, and suddenly it’s just me and Cas. He hasn’t moved from the doorframe, hasn’t stopped watching me. His presence fills the room, warm and grounding, even though he’s silent.
Finally, he clears his throat.“If you need anything, anything at all, you just call. I’ll be here first thing in the morning to take you to your car.”
I blink.“But… aren’t all the mechanic shops closed tomorrow? It’s Sunday.”
That dimple flashes again, slow and deliberate.“Let me worry about that. You just get some rest, Penny.”
My chest tightens, not with fear this time but with something else. Something I can’t name. I nod quickly, afraid he might see too much if I speak.
His gaze lingers a moment longer, steady and sure, before he tips his hat, gentle, like an old-fashioned promise, and steps back into the hall. The click of the door closing leaves the room quieter than before, but somehow not empty.
I slip into the bathroom, and when I turn the brass taps, steaming water fills the clawfoot tub.
The second I sink into it, heat cradles every bruised inch of me. My muscles sigh, my skin prickling as the lavender soap blooms into the air. I lean back, head against the rim, and let myself unravel.
For the first time in forever, I’m not counting footsteps in the hallway. I’m not holding my breath, waiting for shouting or fists. I breathe. Really breathe.
But the quiet is dangerous too. It makes space for thoughts I’ve been shoving down.What now, Penny? Where do you go from here?
Fear curls in my chest, sharp and cold. What if Mark finds me? What if this, this borrowed peace, is only a pause before the storm? What if I don’t know how to live without bracing for impact?
My fists clench under the water.No.I can’t go back. I won’t. Anything is better than being with Mark.
The fear is still there, it may never leave, but beneath it something harder begins to take shape. Determination. Fragile, but mine.Tomorrow, I’ll figure it out.I’ll find a job. I’ll start from nothing if I have to. No matter how terrifying it feels, it’ll be mine. My step forward.
I let out a shaky breath, the lavender wrapping around me like a shield. I’m scared.God, I’m scared. But I’m still here. And I won’t give up.
When the water finally cools, I pull on the soft cotton pajamas Lily left for me, the fabric brushing against my skin like a kindness I don’t deserve.
Then I slide under the quilt, the scent of cedar and lavender mingling in the air like a ghost of comfort. I let my eyes close without bracing, and think of ocean-blue eyes that still find me, even in dreams, as sleep pulls me under.
CHAPTER 5
