Silas looks up immediately. Relief flashes across his face, followed by warmth so genuine it almost hurts.
“There she is,” he says. “Perfect timing.”
Caleb glances over too. He doesn’t ask questions. Just nods once. My presence is enough information for now.
Sadie’s perched on a stool at the counter, chin in her hands, eyes shining. “Miss Delaney! Uncle Silas let me taste the sauce and it’s really good and I didn’t even burn my tongue!”
Silas scoffs. “Because I warned you.”
“Barely,” she counters.
Caleb’s mouth twitches.
The knot in my chest eases another notch.
“What… what’s all this?” I ask, stepping closer.
Silas gestures grandly with his spoon. “Dinner.”
“Yes,” Caleb adds. “Prepared with intention.”
I blink. “You cooked?”
Silas places a hand over his heart. “I know. Try not to faint.”
I almost laugh.
Almost.
The sound gets stuck halfway out as my mind tries, traitorously, to drag Marcus back into the moment. The café. His voice.You don’t belong here.
I shove it down again. Harder this time.
“This wasn’t… you didn’t have to,” I say instead.
Silas softens. “We wanted to.”
Boone appears then, tired lines etched into his face, but eyes gentler when he sees me.
“Hey,” he says. “You up for dinner?”
I nod. “Yeah. I am.”
We sit together at the table a few minutes later. Plates passed. Glasses filled. Sadie narrating every bite like a professional reviewer.
“This is my favorite,” she declares, changing her mind with every mouthful.
Silas bows dramatically. Boone chuckles. Caleb pours Sadie more water without being asked.
I take a bite.
And nearly cry.
Not because it’s perfect. Not because it’s impressive.
Because it tastes like someone cared enough to slow down.
I focus on texture. On warmth. On the fact that no one is watching me to see if I’m grateful enough, talented enough, or worth the effort.
