The conversation drifted to other topics. The wedding, the kids, small-town life. I was laughing at something Blake said about Amelia’s latest toddler antics when the mood shifted.
Blake set down her water glass and looked at me with those too-perceptive artist’s eyes.
“So,” she said, casual but purposeful. “You and Dex.”
I tensed immediately, my hand tightening around my fork.
Delaney’s hand landed gently on Blake’s arm. A warning. Be careful.
“Sorry,” Blake said, though she didn’t look particularly sorry. “None of my business. It’s just... there was a vibe. On Sunday.”
My throat felt tight. “We met wrong. At the bar on Friday night. It was just awkward,” I said echoing what Dex had said. If that was his official story, I was sticking to it.
“He’s been going through something,” Delaney said quietly. “The last few months, he’s been different. More withdrawn.”
“We’ve all noticed,” Blake added. “He’s been pulling away from everyone.”
Despite myself, I was curious. “Different how?”
“Lonely, I think,” Delaney said. “He won’t talk about it. We’ve tried, but he just says he’s fine. He’s always been the one who takes care of everyone else. He doesn’t know how to let us take care of him.”
“Whatever happened between you two at the bar,” Blake said carefully, “I don’t think it was about you. If that helps.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to explain that it had felt very much about me when he’d tried to call them to come pick me up like I was a problem to be solved. But also, from the hours we’d sat talking I knew exactly why he was pulling away from them, exactly how he was feeling. But it wasn’t my place to tell them. It wasn’t my place to insert myself in his pain or try to fix it for him when he’d made it clear that he wanted to stay well away from me.
“We’re not trying to pry,” Delaney said. “We just... he’s family. We worry about him.”
“And you’re family too now,” Blake said. “So we worry about both of you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I managed. “We barely know each other.”
They exchanged a look that said they didn’t quite believe me, but mercifully, they let it drop.
The conversation shifted to safer topics. The gallery’s upcoming exhibition. Delaney’s stress about wedding planning on top of her cider business getting busier. Normal things that didn’t make my chest feel tight.
By the time lunch ended, I felt lighter. Like maybe I really could belong here. Like maybe these women could become real friends, not just obligations tied to blood.
We walked back toward the gallery together, Blake and Delaney talking about plans for the week, including me naturally in the conversation.
“Come by the gallery anytime,” Blake said when we reached her door. “Seriously. Even if you just want to hang out.”
“And the farm,” Delaney added. “You’re always welcome. Bring your camera. The property’s beautiful this time of year.”
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it. “For lunch. For... everything.”
“That’s what family does,” Delaney said simply.
They headed inside, and I stood on the sidewalk with my camera, processing everything.
They’d mentioned Dex. Had said he was lonely, going through something. Had implied that whatever happened at the bar wasn’t really about me.
I thought about him at the bar, telling me about feeling invisible. About watching everyone else’s life move forward while his had stalled. About not knowing where he fit anymore.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thoughts. “Don’t make excuses for him.”
But I couldn’t help thinking about it as I walked back through town, camera in hand.
Lonely. Different. Withdrawn.
