"We can both be grateful." His smile was warm in the darkness. "That's allowed."
I walked him to his truck, the night air cool against my skin. He paused with his hand on the door handle, looking back at the cabin, at the garden barely visible in the darkness. "Wednesday, six o’clock. But text me if you need anything before then. Or just if you want to talk. Or send me pictures of your garden. Whatever feels right."
"I'm not going to send you pictures of my garden," I said, but I was smiling. He was definitely a breath of fresh air and made me smile so easily. Something I wasn’t used to…not at all.
"Your loss. I'd be a very appreciative audience." He grinned as he hopped in the cab of his truck and started the engine. "Sleep well, Daphne."
I watched his taillights disappear down the road, then stood in the darkness for a long moment, listening to the familiar sounds of my property. But they didn't feel as lonely tonight. They felt like they were making room for something new, something that scared me and excited me.
Chapter Nineteen
Daphne
Tuesday morning came with soft sunlight filtering through my bedroom curtains and the sound of birds welcoming the new day. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, my body reluctant to move after yesterday's emotional marathon. Three visitors. Three intense conversations. Three cracks in the walls I'd spent five years building.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling me from my thoughts. Then it buzzed again. And again. I reached for it, squinting at the bright screen, and felt my heart do that stupid flutter thing when I saw the notifications.
Garrett: Good morning. Hope you slept well. No pressure to respond, just wanted you to know I'm thinking about you.
Levi: Morning! Garrett said the cinnamon rolls made it to you. Let me know if they're any good or if I need to keep practicing. Also, thanks again for the sourdough advice. You're a lifesaver.
Micah: Hope yesterday wasn't too overwhelming. Remember, Wednesday is just dinner. One step at a time.
I stared at the messages, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Three messages from three different Alphas, all checking in without demanding anything in return. It felt surreal, like I'd woken up in someone else's life.
Before I could spiral into overthinking, another message came through.
Viola: Hey! Just wanted to check in. How are you feeling after yesterday? Remember, you can call or text anytime. That's what friends do.
Something in my chest loosened at that last message. Friends. Viola had said it so simply, like it was already a fact rather than something I needed to earn or maintain through perfect behavior.
I took a deep breath and started typing responses, keeping them brief but genuine.
To Garrett: Slept okay. Thank you for dinner last night.
To Levi:The cinnamon rolls are amazing. Way better than anything I could make.
To Micah:It was a lot, but I'm okay. See you Wednesday.
To Viola:I'm good. Thank you for checking in. And for yesterday.
I hit send on all of them before I could second-guess myself, then immediately felt anxious. Were they too short? Too formal? Was I supposed to add more, make them warmer?
My phone buzzed almost immediately with responses, but I set it aside, needing to move, to do something with the nervous energy suddenly flooding my system. Coffee. I needed coffee.
I padded into the kitchen in my pajamas—old cotton pants and a faded t-shirt that had seen better days—and started the familiar morning routine. Grind the beans, boil the water, wait for the magic to happen. The ritual was soothing, grounding me in the present moment.
While the coffee brewed, I grabbed one of Levi's cinnamon rolls from where I'd left them wrapped on the counter. They were still good, even after sitting overnight, the icing sweet and the bread soft. I ate it standing at the kitchen window, looking out at my garden as the morning light made everything glow from the morning dew.
This was supposed to be a simple day. A calm day. After yesterday's emotional intensity, I needed quiet and routine. I had weeding to do, some herbs to harvest and dry, and a few repairs on the greenhouse that I'd been putting off. Normal, predictable tasks that wouldn't require me to examine my feelings or make any life-changing decisions.
I poured my coffee and was heading to the porch when I heard a vehicle coming down the road. My shoulders tensed automatically—not again. I couldn't handle any visitors today. But as the sound grew closer, I realized it wasn't any of the familiar engines I'd learned to recognize. This was lighter, different. A delivery truck?
I set down my coffee and moved to the front door, arriving just as a courier van pulled up. A young man hopped out, carrying a medium-sized box, and gave me a friendly wave.
"Delivery for Daphne?" he called with a friendly smile on his face.
I stepped onto the porch, confused. "That's me, but I didn't order anything."
