“You knew her.” Theo’s voice is quiet. “Ten years ago. People change.”
“And what if she hasn’t? What if we let her back in and she does it again?” I stare at the ceiling. “I barely survived the first time, Theo. I’m not doing it twice.”
He’s quiet for a long moment.
“Maybe she?—”
“Go to sleep, Theo.”
“I’m just saying?—”
“Go. To. Sleep.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine. But we’re talking about this eventually. All three of us.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Liar.” He stands, heading for the door. Pauses with his hand on the frame. “Hey, Nate?”
“What?”
“For what it’s worth? I think she wanted to say something today. At the bakery. Before you shut her down.”
“I know.”
“Maybe next time... let her say it?”
I don’t answer. He doesn’t push. Just gives me a small nod and disappears into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.
I stare at the ceiling.
Can we?—
Can we what?
I don’t want to know. I do want to know. Both things are true and I hate it.
She broke me once. Took ten years to put the pieces back together into something that functions. Something that gets up in the morning, does the job, goes through the motions.
I’m not letting her shatter me again.
I’m not.
Chapter 5
Cara
The Honey Crumb is chaos when I walk in.
Not the usual kind—not a morning rush or holiday crowd. This is organized chaos. Deliberate. A woman stands in the middle of it all, clipboard in hand, directing traffic like a general commanding troops.
“No, the banner goes above the window. Above. Higher.” She points with her pen at an alpha on a ladder. “And someone find me the box with the table runners. Red ones, not pink. This is Valentine’s Day, not a baby shower.”
She’s maybe my age, dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, wearing a cream sweater that looks like cashmere. Even from the doorway, I can tell she’s an omega—the way she moves, the way everyone responds to her directions with eager nods instead of eye rolls.
The banner reads “Valentine’s Day Charity Auction - February 14th” in glittery red letters. Heart-shaped balloons crowd one corner. Boxes of decorations cover every surface.
I navigate around a stack of tablecloths and head for the counter. Maeve is there, watching the chaos with amusement, wiping down an already-clean surface.
