We finish the shopping quickly, both kids unusually quiet. Riley stays close to my side, and Isaac holds my hand even after I lift him out of the cart to walk. They can feel my distress, I realize with guilt. They're picking up on my anxiety and it's making them anxious too.
"I'm sorry you had to hear all that," I say softly as we load groceries into Maddox's car. "Raven was just... she was upset."
"She's always upset," Riley says matter-of-factly. "That's why Dad and Papa and Daddy made her leave. Because she was mean to us and she didn't really want to be part of our family."
The casual way she refers to all three men as her fathers makes my chest tight. They've built that for her, created a world whereshe has three people who love her unconditionally. And Raven tried to insert herself into that without actually caring about the children.
The drive back to the house is quiet, both kids subdued in the back seat. I keep replaying Raven's words in my head, letting them sink their claws in deeper. Too broken to really love anyone again. Temporary fix. You won't last.
What if she's right? What if I'm deluding myself into thinking this could be something real? This morning was perfect, so perfect it felt like a dream. Flour fights and family breakfast and Silas' kiss that tasted like coffee and possibility. But what if that's all it is? A beautiful dream that will evaporate the moment they realize I'm not worth the effort?
Hunter and Silas are both home when we arrive, their cars in the driveway. I help the kids carry in the groceries, trying to act normal even though I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams. The house smells like someone's been cooking, and I can hear music playing softly from the living room.
"We're back," I call out, setting bags on the counter.
Hunter appears in the kitchen doorway, still in the jeans and henley from this morning. His eyes scan over the kids first, checking that they're okay, then land on me. His expression shifts immediately, those hazel eyes sharpening with concern.
"What happened?"
"Nothing," I say automatically, but my voice wavers. "Just ran into someone at the store."
"Raven was there," Riley announces before I can stop her. "She was being mean to Miss Amelia. She said mean things about us too."
Hunter's expression goes dark, something dangerous flickering across his face. Silas emerges from the living room, drawn by the tension in Hunter's voice when he asks, "What did she say?"
"It's not important," I try to deflect, but both Alphas are staring at me now with identical expressions of protective fury. "Really, I handled it. We just need to put the groceries away."
"Amelia." Wyatt's voice comes from the stairs, and I turn to find him descending, his blue eyes already locked on my face. "What happened?"
"I ran into Raven at the grocery store," I admit, knowing there's no point in hiding it now. "She said some things. About the kids, about you guys, about me. It was just... unpleasant."
"What things?" Hunter's voice has gone very quiet, very controlled in a way that's somehow more frightening than if he were yelling.
I glance at the kids, not wanting to repeat everything in front of them. Wyatt seems to understand because he nods at Hunter and Silas. "Why don't you two take the kids upstairs for a bit? Maybe get started on that art project you were talking about earlier. I'll talk to Amelia."
The suggestion is gentle and after a moment Hunter nods. He scoops Isaac up, settling him on his hip, while Silas takes Riley's hand. Both kids go without complaint, though Riley looks back at me with worried eyes as they head upstairs.
And then it's just me and Wyatt in the kitchen, surrounded by bags of groceries and the weight of everything Raven said.
"Come here," Wyatt says softly, gesturing to the living room.
I follow him, my legs feeling unsteady. He settles on the couch and pats the space beside him, and I sink down gratefully, my whole body trembling with adrenaline crash and anxiety.
"Tell me what she said."
So I do. I repeat everything I can remember, Raven's passive-aggressive comments about being the new nanny, her implications that the Alphas begged her to stay, her certainty that I won't last. The part about the kids being too much, about Hunter and Silas and Wyatt being too broken to really loveanyone again. All of it comes tumbling out in a rush of words that leave me feeling raw and exposed.
Wyatt listens without interrupting, his expression growing progressively darker. When I finish, he's quiet for a long moment, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping in his cheek.
"She's wrong," he finally says, his voice low and fierce. "About all of it. She left because we asked her to leave, because we caught her being cruel to Isaac and we weren't going to tolerate that. And she's been bitter about it ever since."
"But what if she's not wrong?" The question bursts out of me before I can stop it. "What if I'm just... temporary? What if this is all moving too fast and I'm going to mess it up and hurt the kids and hurt you and I can't... I can't do that again."
"Hey." Wyatt shifts closer, his hand finding mine. "Breathe for me. Just breathe."
I try, but my chest is too tight, the panic rising too fast. "All of this is moving so fast. This morning we were having a flour fight and you were holding my hand under the table and Silas kissed me and I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be what you need."
"I agree it's fast," Wyatt says carefully, his thumb stroking across my knuckles. "But I also know that it feels right. Doesn't it feel right to you?"
