Chapter 47
Madison
The week slipped by faster than I expected.
Work at The Beanery blurred into long mornings behind the counter, Olive perched on a stool, coloring, while Evie teased me about smiling too much.
Evenings were slower, softer. Dinners with Seth became routine, not special events, though every time his hand brushed mine under the table, it still felt like something new.
Sometimes he helped Olive with her drawings at the coffee table, his head bent low as if the crooked flowers she sketched were as important as blueprints.
Other times, we sat on the porch after she had gone to bed, watching fireflies glow across the lawn.
We didn’t always kiss, though we could have.
Sometimes we just sat close, sharing the quiet the way other people share conversation.
By the time Saturday came around, it felt almost dangerous how natural it all seemed. Like we had been living this way for years instead of weeks.
I was folding laundry at the guesthouse when my phone buzzed on the counter. I answered without checking the number, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I smoothed one of Olive’s dresses.
“Ms. Cole?” The voice was brisk, professional. “This is Andrew Lewis from the insurance company. I wanted to give you an update on your claim.”
My pulse kicked up. “Yes, of course.”
“The repairs on your home are nearly complete. We had a few delays with materials, but the crew wrapped up most of the work yesterday. The roof is secure, interior patching has been finished, and the painting crew is scheduled for Monday. Realistically, you should be able to move back in by the end of next week.”
I froze with the dress half-folded in my hands. “That soon?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “We’ll schedule a final walkthrough midweek, but unless something unexpected comes up, your home will be ready for occupancy.”
I thanked him, hung up, and stared at the phone like it had betrayed me.
This was the call I had been waiting for since the storm. The moment of relief I thought would make me breathe easier. Instead, my chest tightened. The guesthouse was small, temporary, borrowed, but it had become something else in the span of a week.
I glanced around the space. Olive’s drawings were taped to the refrigerator.
Her stuffed Bunny sat propped in the corner of the couch.
My books were stacked neatly on the side table where Seth had left them after I fell asleep reading.
The scent of coffee and lavender clung to the air, mingled with something faintly him.
The thought of leaving made my stomach twist.
Olive’s voice floated in from outside, high and bright. “Uncle Seth, look! The sunflowers are taller today!”
I stepped to the window, watching them in the yard.
Olive balanced on tiptoe, pointing proudly at the row of shoots while Seth crouched beside her, nodding like she was unveiling a masterpiece.
His hair was pushed back with one hand, and there was dirt under his nails again, proof that he had been working all morning.
Something ached deep inside me. This was supposed to be temporary. A roof over our heads while repairs were done. Nothing more. But the thought of taking Olive back to our house, of leaving this rhythm, this laughter, this warmth, felt like losing something I hadn’t realized I’d been searching for.
When the screen door creaked open a few minutes later, Seth stepped inside, wiping his hands on a rag. “Everything okay? I heard you on the phone.”
I forced a smile, but it felt thin. “That was the adjuster. They’re almost done. We should be able to move back in next week.”
He froze just slightly, then nodded. “That’s… good news.”
It was good news. It should have been. But neither of us smiled the way we should have.
I turned back to the laundry, blinking hard. For the first time in years, I had a home waiting for me, fixed and whole. And for the first time in years, I wasn’t sure that was the home I wanted.