“Morning, honey,” Eleanor said, her tone casual, though her gaze was anything but. “Sleep well?”
“Fine,” Caleb replied, accepting the mug his father offered. It was true. He’d slept well because when he went to bed, he believed everything was fine.
And then we woke up,his bear said dryly.
And then we woke up,Caleb agreed.
His parents exchanged a look, the kind of silent communication that came from decades of marriage. His father leaned against the counter, arms crossed, while his mother continued working the dough, giving him space to either speak or remain silent.
The quiet stretched between them, comfortable yet expectant. Outside, birdsong filtered through the partially open window.
“You didn’t have to come in this morning,” Thaddeus said. “We expected you to spend the day with Hannah.”
“Hannah’s gone to check on her car,” Caleb said casually.
“Ah,” his father said, as if that explained everything. In a way, perhaps it did.
Eleanor looked up, flour dusting her hands. “She’s still planning to leave.”
“She is. Although she offered to work another shift today,” Caleb added, staring into his coffee. “To say thanks for my hospitality.”
His mother’s hands stilled briefly before resuming their work. “That’s kind of her.”
The understatement hung in the air, begging for elaboration. Caleb took a deep breath, feeling the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing against his chest.
“I thought after yesterday she might consider staying a little longer,” his dad said.
“So did I. But then something changed. I think I screwed up,” he admitted finally, the words rushing out. “Yesterday at the vineyard, everything felt... right. Perfect, even. She was open, laughing. We talked. Really talked.” He set his mug down with more force than intended. “Then last night, this morning... It’s like she’s pulled away completely. Like she’s already gone.”
His parents remained quiet, letting him speak without interruption. The dough made soft sounds as his mother folded and pressed it, the familiar rhythm soothing.
“I don’t know what to do,” Caleb admitted.
“Did something happen?” his father asked finally, his tone neutral, free of judgment.
Caleb thought of the almost-kiss, the way he’d chosen her forehead over her lips. “I didn’t want to rush her,” he said softly. “I thought I was being respectful. But instead, I pushed her away.”
Eleanor dusted flour from her hands and looked at her son with understanding in her eyes. “Or maybe you didn’t push heraway at all,” she suggested gently. “Maybe she’s pulling back because she felt too much, too quickly.”
“What do you mean?” Caleb asked, though part of him already knew.
“Some people run from good things,” his mother said, returning to her dough. “Especially when those good things feel dangerous to them.”
His father nodded. “Your mother’s right. Not everyone trusts happiness when it shows up unexpectedly.”
“Hannah strikes me as someone who’s had to be careful her whole life,” Eleanor continued. “Someone who’s learned to protect herself by keeping her distance. By staying practical.”
Caleb’s bear stirred.She sees it too. The walls our mate builds.
“You’re right,” Caleb admitted, remembering how Hannah had spoken about her childhood. About being useful instead of carefree. About learning early that no one would catch her if she fell.
Thaddeus crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. “When I met your mother, she was the most stubborn woman I’d ever known.”
Eleanor laughed softly. “I still am.”
“The point is,” his father continued with a small smile for his wife, “she didn’t trust what was happening between us. Not because it wasn’t real, but because it wastooreal.”
“So what do I do?” Caleb asked, desperate for guidance. Desperate to find the same love and acceptance his mom and dad had found all those years ago.
