Victor knew he should refuse. Should maintain the careful distance that kept them both safe. But the hopeful look in her eyes demolished his resolve.
“For a few minutes.”
The cabin smelled like autumn—cinnamon and apples and woodsmoke from the fireplace. Chloe had added some decorations since he’d last been inside. Fairy lights were strung along the mantle, cozy blankets were draped over the furniture, and books stacked on every available surface. It looked like a home. Warm and lived-in and entirely Chloe. Hyde rumbled contentedly.
Perfect,Hyde said.This is perfect.
It’s temporary,Victor reminded him.The lease is only for a year.
Then we convince her to stay.
The presumption should have alarmed him. Instead, it felt inevitable.
“Sit.” She gestured to the couch while she moved to the kitchen. “I’ll heat the cider.”
He sat, uneasily conscious of how domestic this felt. How normal. Like they were a couple instead of a doctor and patient dancing around attraction while pretending professional boundaries still existed. She returned with two mugs, handing him one before settling beside him on the couch. Close enough that their thighs touched and his pulse jumped.
“This is good,” he said after the first sip.
“Secret family recipe.” She grinned. “Which means I googled it and added extra cinnamon.”
He laughed, surprised by the ease of it. “Innovative.”
“That’s me. Innovating my way through life one internet recipe at a time.”
They sipped in comfortable silence. The fire crackled. Outside, wind rustled through bare branches. He felt himself relaxing despite every instinct that said he should keep his guard up. But her presence drew him in. She made him want to let down his defenses and just be.
“Can I show you something?” She set down her mug and reached for a book on the coffee table. “I found another reference to your great-grandfather. From a town council meeting in 1924.”
She opened the book—some kind of minutes ledger—and pointed to a handwritten entry.
Dr. Thaddeus Jackson addressed the council regarding the proposed Other registry. Dr. Jackson argued that registration would create unnecessary fear and division. He noted that Others have been part of this community for generations and should be trusted as valuable members rather than monitored as potential threats. Motion to implement registry failed by unanimous vote.
He read it twice, his chest tight.
“He advocated for Others,” she said softly. “Publicly, and the council listened.”
“Because they respected him.”
“Because he’d earned that respect by being integrated. By showing them that guardians weren’t threats.” She closed the book. “Your great-grandfather changed how this town viewed Hydes. And you could too.”
“By doing what? Letting Hyde run free at town events?” He laughed bitterly. “That would undo a century of goodwill in about thirty seconds.”
“Or maybe it would show people that Hydes can be trusted. That control isn’t the same as suppression.” She shifted to face him fully. “Victor, you’re so busy trying to prove you’re not dangerous that you’ve never let anyone see you’re actually safe.”
The distinction made his head spin. Not dangerous versus actually safe. Suppression versus integration. Fear versus trust.
“I don’t know how,” he admitted. “How to be different. How to let Hyde out without risking everything.”
“You could start small.” Her hand found his. “With me. In private. Where it’s safe to experiment.”
“Experiment how?”
“Let Hyde emerge. See what he does. Learn to trust him.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m not afraid, Victor. Whatever happens, I trust you. Both of you.”
Hyde surged forward, responding to her faith with fierce protectiveness, and he felt his hand grow in hers. He watched his fingers lengthen and his palm widen. She didn’t flinch, just adjusted her grip, threading their fingers together.
“See? Safe.”
