The corners of my mouth tilt up as I watch her, practically blooming like a flower in front of me. It’s quite the sight. I findmyself liking how she straightens in her seat, eyes wide with wonder as she listens to the mystical words.
Mom's smile widens as she points a black-painted fingernail to the next card—a naked woman pouring water beneath a field of stars.
"Ah, The Star. Healing. Hope. You will face your challenge and will come out on the other side better for it."
Sophie's eyes mist over a bit, and my heart clenches at the sight. She blinks a couple of times and lifts her chin, smiling gently now.
The last card, two people facing each other, cups raised, a winged lion above them.
"Two of Cups," Mom says, softer now. "A bond. Chosen. Mutual. Not rescue—true partnership. Not just in romance, but also in friendships."
Sophie wilts a bit at that one, deflating slightly, and exhales like she's been holding her breath for an hour. A hesitant hope in her expression mixes with the shadow of worry in her eyes. She looks for a long moment at the four cards in front of her and gives a small, stunned laugh that has not one spec of mockery in it.
"Thank you," she murmurs, and then, as if embarrassed by her own relief, she reaches into her wallet and tries to hand Mom a ten.
"Nope," Mom grabs her hand and folds it around the money, gently pushing it away. "First one's free, my dove."
"Thank you," Sophie whispers and makes eye contact with me.
Whoosh,I feel it in my chest and can't help but smile at her. She returns it with a radiant one of her own before standing up and gently pulling her bag onto her shoulder. I hand her the bag with her two books, and she takes it so gently—two hands, likeI'm passing her something precious and breakable. Just like how she handled the books.
I like that, the care.
She smiles when she sees theRivers & Rhodestote, "Looks like I have a new favorite tote bag."
My smile widens, and I nod toward the bag, "I put our business card in there for you, our number's on it. If you have any questions about the book club, or questions about the book, or... anything at all really.."
She nods once, meeting my eyes steadily.
"I'll definitely think about Monday, Callum."
I want to say:I hope you come,andyou do not owe me a damn thing,and alsoyou looked like someone was unkind to you today, and I really wanna find out who and beat their ass for it.
What I do say is: "Again, no pressure, but it's very low-key, and everyone is extremely nice and welcoming."
Those lovely eyes of hers sparkle a bit more at that as they hold and lock with mine, making my heart kick again.
The grandfather clock in the corner chimes a new hour, and I realize we’re supposed to be closed—and she realizes it, too.
"God, I'msosorry. Let me get out of your hair—"
"No worries. Was worth it,” I assure her, and she blushes so pretty at that.
So damn pretty.
I walk her to the door and hold it open—because I'm my father's son. When she passes me, I catch her scent—something warm and sweet andwhoosh,once again.
I clear my throat, "Get home safe."
She smiles at me, so genuine and warm as she turns to walk down the street.
"Bye, Callum. It was really nice meeting you."
"You too, Sophie.”
Understatement of the year, of the decade, of the century.
I stand in the doorway, watching her walk down the street. She tugs her tote bag up on her shoulder and hugs the one I gave her to her chest, like she’s shielding it.
