I really hope she likes her room.
“Gray.” Beck glances back over his shoulder at me, eyebrows lifting. “Her room’s ready, right?” he whispers like Tansy isn’t standing right next to him.
“Yeah,” I say, but I’m suddenly not so sure.
Did I throw out all the boxes?
Doubt fills my head, and I hurry ahead, long strides eating up the hallway as I move past Beck and Tansy. I worked so hard to get everything ready. I built shelves, hand-picked blankets, sheets, and pillows. I even installed brand-new lighting fixtures that bathe the whole room in a soft golden light.
I reach the door and swing it open, spanning the whole room all at once.
It’s exactly as I left it.
The space is cozy in a way the rest of the house isn’t, soft and plush. The walls are painted a muted cream with a hint of warmth to it, not white, not stark. Something that reflects light instead of bouncing it back too hard. The ceiling slopes a little, enough to make the room feel tucked in on itself, like it’s holding its breath. And the rose-colored carpet has never been walked on.
There’s a window on the far wall, tall and wide, framedwith lace curtains that let in the late-evening glow without exposing too much of the outside world. I positioned the bed so the light wouldn't hit her nest directly.
The shelves I built line one wall, low and wide, and are made of maple. They’re stocked with baskets, folded blankets, and plenty of empty space for her things.
And then there’s the nest.
God. It really does look like a mess.
It’s a heap of blankets and pillows layered on the round nesting mattress. Every shade of pink is layered together in thick quilts, plush throws, pillows of every size, some overstuffed, some barely there, all pulled into a loose circle that dips in the center.
I tried to make it nice, but I’m not sure I succeeded.
My eyes sweep the room one more time, hands curling and uncurling at my sides, taking it all in with fresh eyes, but now that Tansy is right down the hall, all I can see are the things I missed.
I should have installed a fan, and an air purifier….and maybe a sound machine?
The faint sound of footsteps reaches me, followed by the faint creak of the door opening right behind me.
Tansy steps into the room first. Beck right behind her.
Then she stops short. She’s completely silent for a few agonizing seconds, before a gentle “Oh, my,” leaves her lips.
My chest seizes as her eyes sweep the room, wide and shining, taking in the walls, the window, the shelves. Then they land on the nest. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. She blankly stares.
I can’t tell if that look means she loves it or if it’s so bad she doesn’t even know what to say.
But the longer she’s silent, the worse I feel.
Beck glances between Tansy and the bed, clearlyunsure what to do with the silence. “Uh,” he starts, too quiet, like he’s afraid he’ll scare her if he talks too loud. “Grason made it.” He cuts me a sweet, bashful smile. “What do you think?”
Tansy finally breathes in, slow and shaky, and then she whispers, “I…I love it.”
Her words wash over me, making my chest expand and my knees almost give out.
I can breathe again.
“It’s so lovely,” Tansy whispers, but there’s something in her eyes that doesn’t quite match the softness of her voice. There’s a tightness there, like she’s bracing for something awful to happen any second now.
I catch Beck’s eye over her shoulder.
He sees it too.
The beta’s mouth presses into a thin line, concern flickering across his face before he schools it away. “I’m so jealous,” he says lightly, trying to fill the space. “Gray did an amazing job. It’s so snuggly and pretty.”
