I take a deep breath, pushing aside the excitement of my day to focus on the brother who’s probably going to be the hardest to convince. He’s been against me and Mason being together foras long as I can remember, and right now, with the look on his face, I know he’s not exactly thrilled with the idea of me being in a pack with Mason.
I walk over to him, my steps slower now. He doesn’t greet me, just watches me approach with that unreadable look on his face.
When I stop in front of him, Landon doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at me like he’s waiting for me to break the silence. I finally open my mouth to speak, knowing I can’t avoid this anymore.
“Landon—”
He cuts me off, his voice tight, the hurt clear in his eyes and enough to make my stomach twist. “So, you’re with Mason now?”
Guilt floods through me, even though I knew this moment was inevitable. I shift my weight, struggling to find the right words, but the pain in his tone makes it hard to focus.
“I thought we agreed—” he starts, his frustration bubbling up. “You and Mason would never work.”
A spark of irritation flares inside me, something finally clicking into place. We never agreed on that. It was always his rule, one he made up when we were younger, back when he was afraid of losing his best friend to his twin.
“We aren’t kids anymore, Lan,” I say, my voice steady. “You decided I needed to stay away from Mason because of your own insecurities. But you have a full life now. I’m not taking your best friend away from you. It’s not like I’m going to lock him up just to... you know, have sex with him all the time.”
He winces at the last part, his face twisting in disgust. His hand rubs the back of his neck, his discomfort plain. “Gross,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at me.
A small, wry smile tugs at my lips. “It’s true,” I insist, a hint of teasing in my voice, even as my heart still feels heavy from our confrontation.
He lets out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping as he finally meets my eyes. The anger in his gaze softens, replaced by something else—resignation, maybe. He crosses his arms over his chest, but the tension is slowly ebbing away.
“Look,” he starts, his voice quieter now. “I just... I never wanted you to get hurt. Mason’s complicated, and his life has always been messy. I didn’t want you wrapped up in that.”
I step closer, my heart aching at the concern etched across his face. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but you have to trust that I can handle myself. Mason makes me happy, Lan. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
He studies me for a moment as if weighing my words. Then, a small, reluctant smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You do look... happier,” he admits, his defenses crumbling a bit more. “I guess I’ve just been too stubborn to see it.”
I reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re my twin, and you’ll always be one of the most important people in my life. But Mason... he’s important too. You don’t have to lose anyone.”
Landon’s gaze flickers, and he rubs the back of his neck again, this time with a touch of sheepishness. “I guess I’ve been kind of a jerk, huh?”
I grin, relieved to see his walls finally breaking down. “Kind of,” I tease, and his laugh is genuine, if a bit hesitant.
He lets out another breath, nodding slowly. “Alright. I’ll try to be okay with this. For you. And for Mason, I guess.”
My smile widens, and I give his hand another squeeze. “Thank you, Lan. That means everything to me.”
He pulls me into a brief, tight hug, his warmth familiar and reassuring. “Just... tell him he owes me for all the grief he’s caused,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of humor in his voice now.
I laugh softly, feeling the weight of our conversation lift. “I’ll make sure he knows,” I promise, and when we pull back, there’s a sense of hope between us—a new beginning, maybe, for all of us.
I pushthe squeaky-wheeled cart through the narrow aisles of the small town grocery store, humming to myself. The past few days have felt like a whirlwind, but a good one. A really, really good one. Things feel lighter, happier, and the knowledge that I’m heading home to the people I love most makes me feel like I’m practically floating.
I grab a bundle of fresh basil, its aroma filling the air as I place it in a small produce bag. Tonight’s dinner is going to be special, and I want everything to be perfect. Fresh pasta, garlic bread, a simple salad—it’s the kind of homey, comfort food that will bring us all together at the end of the day. My heart feels full just thinking about it.
At the register, I exchange a warm smile with Mrs. Peters, the kind older lady who’s worked here as long as I can remember. She beams at me as she scans the groceries.
“Big dinner planned?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at the bag of fresh tomatoes.
“Yeah,” I say, unable to hide my smile. “It’s a special one tonight.”
Her eyes twinkle with curiosity, but she doesn’t press. “Well, I hope it’s a wonderful evening, sweetheart.”
I thank her, pay for the groceries, and head out, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the town as I walk the short distance to Chad’s house—our house now. Or soon to be. It still feels strange to think of it that way, but every time I step through the front door, it feels a little more like home.
Inside, the house is quiet and empty, but it’s the kind of quiet that carries the promise of soon-to-come laughter and warmth. I set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and start unpacking, putting on some music as I get to work. The smell of fresh garlic sizzling in olive oil fills the air, and I lose myself in the rhythm of chopping, stirring, and tasting. It’s peaceful, and I can’t help but smile as I imagine everyone coming home to this—a warm meal, a cozy kitchen, and all of us together.
