Chapter 31 Jett #2
"You're stronger than you think," I say.
"But what if I don't go and he actually succeeds and I missed it? He’s your brother, I shouldn’t be stopping you from doing what you want to do,” Sharon says.
“We have to protect you.”
Sharon shakes her head. “I want to go," she says finally.
"Of course," Pine says without hesitation. "We'll drive up Thursday morning, do the family thing, drive back that night."
Sharon nods.
"Text him back," I say. "Tell him we’ll be there.”
She takes my phone and types.
"I'll be there Thursday. Looking forward to seeing your progress."
Simple. Supportive. Non-committal.
She sends it and puts the phone down.
"Thank you," she says quietly. "For telling me. For not making the decision for me."
“We’ll do anything for you. Anything,” Cassian says firmly. By the time we pull into Pine Hollow, Sharon's shoulders have relaxed slightly. She's still processing but she's not as tense.
The house looks exactly like we left it yesterday morning. Warm and welcoming.
Inside, Sharon immediately collapses face-first onto the couch. Her voice is muffled.
"I just planned a wedding, and had an amazing night with my three alphas."
"You're allowed to feel overwhelmed," Pine says, settling next to her. His hand finds her back and starts rubbing slow circles. "You don't have to have everything figured out immediately."
I settle on her other side while Cassian disappears into the kitchen. Within minutes the smell of coffee fills the house. The man's solution to everything is caffeine, and honestly he's not wrong.
"Talk to me," I say, my hand joining Pine's on her back. "What are you feeling?"
"Everything," Sharon says into the cushion. "I'm feeling everything. Hope and fear and guilt and anxiety and love and exhaustion and about seventeen other emotions that don't have names."
"That's a lot," I say.
"It is."
Pine's hands work across her shoulders, finding the knots from yesterday's stress and today's emotional bullshit. His fingers press into muscle with precision, releasing tension Sharon's been carrying.
"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Pine asks, his dark eyes meeting mine over Sharon's prone form.
"What?" Sharon asks, turning her head to look at him.
"Chess," Pine says.
Sharon's expression shifts to competitive.
"That board is perfect," she says, sitting up. "Just because you can't handle a three-dimensional chess set doesn't mean it's too complicated."
"I can handle it fine," Pine says. "I just think it's overkill for casual games."
"Then you should have no problem beating me," Sharon challenges.
"I never beat you," Pine says. "You're annoyingly good at chess."
"Do you want me to let you win this time?" Sharon asks, half joking.
"What fun would that be?" Pine responds, already standing to get the chess set.
The three-dimensional chess set is objectively ridiculous. Three transparent boards stacked vertically with pieces that move between levels. It's complicated and confusing and Sharon absolutely dominates at it.
Pine sets it up on the coffee table. Sharon settles cross-legged on the floor on one side, Pine mirrors her on the other. I take the armchair where I can watch both of them. Cassian settles on the couch behind Sharon with fresh coffee for everyone.
"White or black?" Pine asks.
"White," Sharon says. "I like going first."
They play in comfortable silence with occasional commentary. Sharon moves a knight between levels and Pine groans. Pine captures one of Sharon's pawns and she makes a sound that suggests he just walked into a trap.
Watching them is like watching a conversation without words. They know each other's strategies. They anticipate moves. They challenge each other without it becoming hostile.
"You're thinking too hard," Sharon says when Pine takes longer than usual.
"I'm thinking exactly the right amount," Pine says. "You've set up something and I'm trying to figure out what before I walk into it."
"Maybe I haven't set up anything," Sharon suggests innocently.
"You've definitely set up something," Pine says, but he makes his move anyway.
Three moves later, Sharon has him in checkmate.
"How do you do that?" Pine asks, studying the board like it personally offended him.
"I'm just better at chess than you," Sharon says, grinning. "It's not personal."
"It feels personal," Pine mutters, but he's smiling.
They reset and play again. This game takes longer. Pine's more cautious, thinking through every move. Sharon's patient, letting him take his time, sipping her coffee and watching him with affection.
This game ends in a stalemate, which Pine treats like a victory.
"I didn't lose," he announces.
"You didn't win either," Sharon points out.
"Still counts."
By the time they've played three games, Sharon's visibly more relaxed. The distraction worked. She's stopped gripping her knees. Her shoulders are loose. She's smiling easier.
"One more?" Pine asks.
"One more. But then I actually need to work. I can’t let Jessica answer all the new clients.”
This final game is faster. Sharon plays aggressively, taking risks she didn't take earlier. Pine matches her energy and the result is exciting even if the outcome is predictable.
Sharon wins again.
"Three out of four," she says. "Not bad for a Sunday afternoon."
"I'm getting better," Pine says. "Eventually I'll beat you."
“Maybe,” Sharon agrees, but her tone says she doesn't believe it.
She moves to the kitchen table with her laptop while Pine cleans up the chess set. I watch her open her wedding planning files and dive into work with the kind of focus that suggests she's grateful for something concrete to think about.
Cassian settles next to her with his own laptop. Pine returns to the couch with a book. I pull out my phone and scroll through social media, seeing photos from yesterday's wedding already circulating with comments about how beautiful everything was.
This is what pack looks like. Not always exciting. Not always dramatic. Sometimes it's just existing in the same space while everyone does their own thing. Chess games and coffee and comfortable silence.
My phone buzzes with another text from Ben.
"Thank you. It means everything. I'm going to make you guys proud. This time is different."
I show the text to Sharon without saying anything.
She reads it and nods slowly.
"I want to believe him," she says.
“We all do,” I say.
We return to the living room where Sharon's deep in her planning, fingers flying across the keyboard. Pine's abandoned his book to watch her work, his expression soft.
This is my pack. This woman who plans weddings and plays chess and hopes even when hoping is scary. These two alphas who love her as much as I do. This house that's become home.
Anytime there’s a problem, we'll handle it together.
That's what pack does.