"I should let you get back to your day," he said, but he didn't let go of my hand immediately. "Thank you, Daphne. For the coffee. For the conversation. For..." He gestured vaguely, encompassing everything that had passed between us. "For trusting me with all of that."
"Thank you for listening." I stood too, reluctant to break the connection but knowing I needed time to process everything. "And for the bread. Which was incredible, by the way. I wasn't just being polite."
"I know." His grin was warm and slightly cocky. "Mabel really outdid herself."
I laughed, and the sound felt foreign and wonderful and right. "Give Mabel my compliments."
"I will." He released my hand slowly, his fingers trailing against mine before falling away.
“Let me walk you out.” I smiled as we walked back inside, placed the mugs in the sick and headed out the front door.
"I'll text you later, if that's okay? Let you know what the others said about... everything."
"I'd like that." I gave a small smile. He started toward his truck, then paused, turning back. The sunlight caught his hair,bringing out golden highlights I hadn't noticed before, and his blue eyes were soft with something that made my heart catch.
"Daphne?" He asked, eyes still warm as he looked at me.
"Yes?" I asked, not knowing what else there was to say.
"I'm really glad you said yes." The words were simple, but they carried weight; acknowledgment, promise, and the beginning of something new. I felt them settle into my chest, taking root alongside the hope that had been growing there since last night.
"Me too," I said, and meant it. I watched him drive away, standing on my porch until the sound of his engine faded into the rustle of leaves and the distant babble of the creek. The garden stretched before me, green and growing, full of life I'd nurtured with my own two hands. For the first time in five years, looking at it didn't feel like looking at everything I had. It felt like looking at a beginning.
There would be hard days ahead, I knew. Moments when the fear would rise up and try to drown me, when Trinity's threats would echo louder than Levi's promises, when every instinct would scream at me to retreat behind my walls and never come out. But today—this moment, this morning full of bread, coffee, and honest conversation—had shown me something important.
I didn't have to face those days alone anymore. The thought was terrifying and wonderful at the same time. And exactly what I needed.
I went back inside, wrapped the remaining bread in a clean towel, and found myself smiling at nothing in particular. Tomorrow, Levi would come back. Or maybe Garrett, or Oliver, or Micah. Maybe all of them, maybe just one. It didn't matter. What mattered was that they would come—that they wanted to come—and that I would be here, ready to let them in.
One day at a time. One conversation at a time. One loaf of bread at a time.
It wasn't the life I'd planned. It wasn't the safety I'd built.
It was something better. It was the beginning of something real.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I couldn't wait to see what came next.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Daphne
Iwas still standing in the kitchen, staring at the bread wrapped in its clean towel like it held the answers to questions I hadn't thought to ask, when I heard another vehicle coming down the road.
My heart did that stuttering thing again—the instinctive clench of fear that I was beginning to hate—but this time, the sound was different. Not the low rumble of a vehicle but something lighter, more cheerful. A car horn honked twice in quick succession, a familiar pattern that made me smile despite myself.
Viola.
I stepped onto the front porch just as her bright yellow Beetle—a car so aggressively sunny it seemed to mock the very concept of subtlety—pulled up beside my gate. She was already climbing out before the engine fully died, her arms laden with bags that looked far too heavy for her petite frame.
"Don't just stand there!" she called, her voice carrying that particular blend of affection and exasperation that I'd come to associate with her. "I brought food, and it's getting cold,and I have approximately ten thousand questions that need answering!"
I descended the porch steps, shaking my head but unable to suppress my smile. Viola was a force of nature—a tiny hurricane of energy wrapped in a floral sundress, her dark curly hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun that somehow looked intentional. Her skin glowed in the afternoon light, and her eyes—warm, always sparkling with mischief or curiosity or both—locked onto mine with laser focus.
"You look different," she announced, stopping in front of me with her bags clutched to her chest. "Something's different. What's different?"
"Hello to you too," I said dryly, reaching to take some of the bags from her. "And nothing's different. I'm the same as always."
"Liar." She relinquished the bags but didn't move, studying my face with an intensity that made me want to squirm. "You're smiling. Like, actually smiling. Not that polite thing you do when you're trying to make people think you're okay. An actual, genuine, reaching-your-eyes smile." Her own face broke into a grin. "Oh my God. Something happened. Something good happened, and you're going to tell me everything."
