"What? It's true. We miss him but he's doing important research or whatever."
The slight edge in her voice suggests more complicated feelings underneath.
Rebecca catches my eye, something apologetic in her expression. "Jameson's work is important to him. We support it."
The ‘even when it's hard’goes unspoken but clear.
We settle around the kitchen table with tea and fresh cookiesand Pen pulls out her phone. "Can I show you my routine? Nationals is in three weeks and I'm freaking out a little."
"Pen," Julian starts.
"What? She might want to see it!"
"I do," I assure her. "Show me."
She beams, pulling up a video. The routine is impressive, precise, powerful, the kind of discipline that comes from years of dedicated practice. When she sticks the landing, the relief on her face is palpable.
"That was beautiful," I say honestly.
"Really? Because my coach says my form on the dismount is still too loose and I keep overthinking the connection between?—"
"You're doubting yourself," I observe gently. "The technique is there. You just need to trust it."
Pen blinks at me. "That's... exactly what my coach says."
"It's true for most things. Overthinking kills momentum."
"Says the omega dating my brother." She grins. "He overthinks breathing."
"I do not?—"
"You literally made a pros and cons list about whether to get coffee yesterday," Tyler says.
"That was for academic purposes."
"It was coffee, Jules."
Rebecca watches this exchange with barely concealed amusement, then catches my eye. "How are you handlingthree alphas who all probably overthink in their own special ways?"
"Strategic patience," I reply. "And clearly stated boundaries."
Her smile widens. "I like you already."
Rebecca catches my eye, something soft in her expression. "Elowen, would you mind helping me with something outside? Won't take long."
I follow her through the back door into a small yard. The garden is modest but well-tended, herbs cut back for winter, tomato cages stacked against the fence, mulch spread over empty beds.
"I know it's not much," Rebecca says, settling on the back steps with two mugs of fresh tea. "But it helps me think. Process things."
I sit beside her, accepting the tea gratefully. The afternoon is chilly but not uncomfortable.
"Julian talks about you," Rebecca says after a moment. "A lot."
"He's mentioned you too."
"I'm sure." She wraps both hands around her mug. "He's always been intense. Even as a child. Always trying to solve things, fix things, help everyone."
"I've noticed."
