Because I’m no longer alone.
“I think I am,” I whisper.
Shay nods and gestures to the table. “Sit. I’ll grab bowls.”
Wyatt pours tea and coffee. Shay unpacks containers and spoons with the familiarity of someone who belongs in this kitchen.
I want that. That ease. That belonging. That possibility.
Wyatt hands me a mug. “I need to check on a few things outside,” he says. “I’ll leave you ladies to talk.”
He slips into his coat and disappears into the white.
Shay drops into the seat across from me, tying her hair into a messy knot. “Heads up, I’m slightly feral from baby spit and no sleep.”
My head snaps up. “Wait—baby?”
Her grin turns warm and soft. “Max. Almost three months.”
“You’re a mom?” My mouth falls open. “I mean, I knew you were married, but?—”
“But I haven’t been here long?” Shay laughs. “Yeah. It all happened fast. Henry and I… it just clicked.”
Something eases in my chest. So much of this place seems built on instincts and timing and people choosing each other in moments that matter.
“Henry didn’t talk much at first,” Shay admits. “Broody. Overprotective. Prone to glowering.”
I grin. “Sounds familiar.”
Shay snorts. “Men like them don’t love halfway.”
The words hit something deep.
After a moment, I say it—the thing I didn’t expect to tell anyone. “I wasn’t supposed to survive.”
Shay goes still. She doesn’t rush me. Doesn’t push. Just offers her hand across the table.
I place mine in hers. “I stayed invisible for so long,” I whisper. “Because if I didn’t matter, maybe no one would hurt me.”
“And now?” she asks softly.
“I don’t know what to do with people who are kind.”
Shay squeezes my hand. “Start small. A meal. A joke. A shared chore. A place to set your mug next to theirs. It adds up.”
“Adds up to what?”
“To home.”
My throat tightens. “Wyatt hasn’t pushed.”
“He won’t,” she says simply. “Not until you’re ready.”
I nod, remembering our kiss. “But he wants me.”
“Oh, honey,” Shay murmurs, eyes softening, “I think that man already has you. He just doesn’t know how to keep you safe without holding on too tight.”
Heat pricks behind my eyes. Because she’s right.
