"I like it," I said. "Seeing how it goes together. The progress."
"It's just cabinets."
"You built them from scratch. In your workshop. Now they're here." I ran my hand along the smooth wood.
He was quiet for a moment, then picked up the next cabinet piece. "Hand me the level?"
I grabbed it from the toolbox and passed it to him. Our fingers brushed.
"So what's next?" I asked. "After the cabinets."
"Countertops. Then backsplash." He positioned the level, checked the bubble. "Electrical needs updating. Plumbing's solid, though."
Outside, Scout and Daisy were tearing around the yard, tangled together in some elaborate game only they understood. We both stopped to watch them through the window.
"Daisy's usually more dignified," I said. "Scout brings out her chaos."
"Scout's usually calmer. Guess it goes both ways."
We went back to work. I learned when to hand him tools, when to hold things steady, when to stay out of the way. It was satisfying in a way I hadn't expected. Watching something take shape under his hands.
By the time we finished the last one, the sun was starting to dip. We sat on the back porch steps with sandwiches and water bottles, the dogs sprawled in the grass below us.
"Your hands are going to hurt tomorrow," Caleb said, nodding at my palms.
I looked down. Red marks from holding things, a small blister forming on my thumb. "Worth it."
We ate in comfortable silence, but my mind kept drifting. I'd seen Matt's patrol car twice this week—once outside the pharmacy, once driving past the clinic. Lucy wouldn't stop asking questions about Caleb. And I'd noticed the looks at the hardware store, the way conversations paused when we walked in together.
Caleb noticed the shift. I could tell by the way he glanced at me.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just thinking."
"About?"
I shook my head. "Nothing important."
He let the silence sit, same as he always did.
"It's been a weird week," I said finally. "Small town things. People noticing stuff. Talking."
He was quiet. "About us."
"A little. And I keep…" I stopped myself.
"Keep what?"
I looked at the dogs instead of at him. "My ex-husband moved back. You probably heard."
"I heard."
"I keep seeing his patrol car around town. It's stupid… he has a job, he has to be places. But every time I see it, I just…"
I couldn't finish.
Caleb set down his sandwich. Leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
