32. Chapter 32
Madison
After Blair left later that morning, her laughter still echoing faintly in my head, I stood at the window and watched Olive chase bubbles across the yard.
My best friend had a way of cutting straight through me, of seeing the things I was too stubborn to admit.
She had hugged me tight before she went, whispering that I deserved good things and that maybe Seth was one of them, if I would just let myself see it.
I wanted to believe her.
Olive shrieked with delight as one of her bubbles floated high into the air and popped against the side of Seth’s truck. I smiled despite myself, pushing the screen door open. “All right. You ready to work on that garden?”
“Yes!” she shouted, running to grab her little watering can from the porch. “The flowers are hungry!”
I had promised her we would work on the garden bed that lined the walkway outside the guest house, but part of me had been hoping she might forget. The soil was hard, the weeds stubborn, and I had very little energy left for making things look pretty.
I followed her down the steps, the heat already pressing close. To my surprise, Seth was by the main house, sleeves rolled up and a shovel in his hand. He must have heard Blair’s car leave, because when his gaze lifted to mine, there was no mask on his face. Just him.
“Figured I’d help,” he said simply, nodding toward the flower bed that lined the side of the guest house. “Could use more than two sets of hands.”
“You don’t have to,” I said automatically.
He shrugged. “I want to.”
And just like that, it was the three of us, Olive chattering non-stop, Seth carrying the heavy bags of soil like they were nothing, and me kneeling in the dirt, trying not to get caught staring at him.
The sun beat down, cicadas buzzing in the distance, as Seth worked the shovel into the hard soil. Sweat darkened his shirt at the collar, and his hair kept slipping into his eyes. He caught me looking once and smirked, the kind of crooked smile that made my heart stumble.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I said quickly, turning back to the seed packets.
“I wasn’t,” he replied, voice low, teasing. “Not much, anyway.”
Olive’s laughter cut through the moment as she spilled half her watering can across the porch steps. Seth laughed loudly, almost startling me. It was full, real, not the careful one I was used to.
By the time we finished, Olive was pink-cheeked and dirty, and the flower beds looked more hopeful than they had in years. Seth spread a blanket under the oak tree and opened a cooler I hadn’t noticed before. Watermelon slices, iced tea, even popsicles.
“You came prepared,” I said, surprised.
He shrugged again, but there was something softer in his eyes. “Figured if I was going to spend the day sweating with you two, we’d need a reward.”
We sat in the shade, Olive devouring watermelon and giggling as juice ran down her chin. Seth leaned back on his elbows, long legs stretched out in front of him, and I realized how different he seemed. Relaxed. At ease. Like this wasn’t an inconvenience, but exactly where he wanted to be.
“You’re good at this,” I said quietly, watching him hand Olive a napkin she barely used.
His eyes flicked to mine. “I don’t always feel like I am. But I’m trying.”
The honesty in his voice chipped at something inside me. I looked at him then, really looked, and saw not the guarded man I thought I knew. He was someone softer, steadier, and maybe braver than I’d given him credit for.
When Olive finally curled up on the blanket with her watering can clutched like a stuffed animal, drifting into sleep, Seth’s voice came low. “She trusts me. That means more than you realize.”
I swallowed. “She trusts you because you’ve given her reasons to. You’ve also given me reasons.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. The air between us shifted. He didn’t look away. And for the first time, I let myself wonder if Blair was right, if maybe, just maybe, happiness wasn’t something to be afraid of anymore.