"Seriously?" Noah's eyes widen.
"And Malcolm can't cook to save his life. Last week he burned pasta. Who burns pasta?"
"Pasta?" Jess snorts. "How is that even possible?"
"He forgot he was boiling it and all the water evaporated. The pot was ruined."
"What about Alex?" Noah wiggles his eyebrows. "Any fun facts?"
I feel my cheeks warm. "He bought me tomato plants. He knows I like to garden."
"That's sweet," Noah says, his voice going soft.
"It is," I agree.
This is the most normal I've felt in weeks. Maybe months.
No one mentions Ragon or Marie or any of it. We just laugh and eat and exist together like we used to.
When lunch is over and we're standing in the parking lot saying goodbye, Jess hugs me again.
"Call us," she says. "Anytime. We're here."
"I will," I promise.
Noah squeezes me so tight my ribs protest. "Love you, Vee."
"Love you too."
Alex and I drive back in comfortable silence for the first few minutes.
"Thank you," I say finally. "For bringing me. I needed that."
"I could tell."
I study his profile as he drives. The calm steadiness of him. How he carries authority like something he doesn't have to announce.
"He's lucky," I say. "Rhys. To have you."
Alex glances at me briefly.
"He doesn't have to be grateful to you," I continue. "He probably doesn't even fully understand what it cost. But he’s lucky."
Alex is quiet.
"We're all lucky," he says finally. "That's the point of a pack."
We pull into the driveway. The cabin that's starting to feel like somewhere I belong.
Before I've finished getting out of the car, the front door opens.
Rhys is in the doorway.
He's not doing anything. Just standing there. Taking up most of the door frame, arms at his sides, eyes finding me immediately.
I cross the driveway and go up the porch steps.
He doesn't move from the doorway, just watches me come.
