Chapter 4 In Daylight #6
Luna passed the syrup. Grace passed a basket of biscuits.
Jeremy moved his coffee before Poppy could steal a sip.
Frank announced, with huge pride, that turkey bacon remained an insult to breakfast and would never cross his threshold.
Vina laughed at that, careful at first, then real when Bella backed Frank with a solemn nod.
Nobody made her explain the suite.
Nobody asked for details.
Nobody made her prove she belonged.
They just gave her food, coffee, a place at the table, and the easy chaos of people who had already made room.
I sat beside her, close enough that our knees touched. Under the table, her hand found mine and squeezed until my fingers hurt.
“You okay?” I murmured.
“No,” she whispered, smiling at Poppy's argument with Frank over cinnamon rolls. “But in a good way. I think.”
Breakfast moved around her.
Bella handed Vina a dish towel when plates started to stack near the sink, like it was the most natural thing in the world for Vina to stand beside her and dry while Bella washed.
Vina took it with both hands. Their shoulders brushed.
Bella said something low that made Vina look down fast and laugh, bright and broken at the edges.
Sam caught my eye from near the counter and gave me a small nod.
Happy for her. Happy for me. Maybe complicated somewhere deeper, but not here. Not this morning.
Sally saw the nod. Her mouth softened before she covered it by flicking a towel at Sam's arm.
I almost noticed.
Then Poppy called my name, accusing me of hiding the good orange juice, and the moment slipped away.
After breakfast, the kitchen scattered into Sunday morning motion.
Frank headed for the dock. Jeremy and Grace took coffee to the porch.
Sally dragged Sam into a debate about coolers.
Kit, Poppy, and Luna stayed near the table with Vina for a few more minutes, folding her into some story about the bed they had stolen from me and how Poppy had apparently claimed the middle like a dictator.
Vina laughed, but I could see the shine in her eyes.
When she finally stood, she tugged gently on my hand.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
I followed her out to the side deck, where the lake lay bright and flat beyond the rail. Morning heat was already rising from the boards. Voices drifted from the kitchen behind us, Bella laughing, Poppy protesting something, Kit answering with the kind of dry calm that meant Poppy was losing.
Vina stopped at the railing and stared at the water.
For a while, she said nothing.
Then her chin trembled.
“Fuck,” she whispered, wiping fast under one eye. “I hate this.”
I stepped closer but didn't crowd her. “What?”
“You.” She laughed through a shaky breath. “This morning. Your mom giving me coffee. Kit hugging me like I wasn't the girl who spent the night with you while she slept in your bed. Poppy and Luna acting like I came home instead of back from a scandal.”
“You did come home.”
Her eyes squeezed shut.
“Nash.”
I waited.
She turned to face me, eyes wet now, no performance left in them. “Thank you. For not letting me go to my cabin. For bringing me in there. For making it normal before I could make myself smaller.”
“You’re with me.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked. “That's why I’m terrified.”
I reached for her hand.
She let me take it.
“I’m falling in love with you,” Vina said, the words quiet and plain and braver than anything she had done on a dance floor.
“And it scares the shit out of me because you could break my heart. You could break it so easy, Brew. You could decide I’m too much, or too loud, or too dirty, or fun for a night but not worth all this, and I would let you wreck me before I figured out how to stop it. ”
I cupped her face in both hands.
Her tears slid under my thumbs. She didn't look away.
“Your heart’s safe with me,” I said.
Her breath caught.
“I mean it. I’m not going to treat you like too much. I’m not going to wake up and decide your fire is inconvenient. I’m not going to make you smaller so I can handle you.”
Vina's hands closed around my wrists.
“You better mean that.”
“I do.”
“Say it again.”
“You’re safe with me.”
She broke then, just enough to step into me, arms around my waist, face against my chest. I held her in the morning light with the smell of coffee and lake water drifting around us.
When she lifted her head, I kissed her.
Soft. Slow. Daylight instead of fireworks. A real couple kiss, the kind that didn't ask the world whether it was allowed to exist.
Vina kissed me back with tears still on her face.
When she pulled away, her smile shook but held.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. I believe you.”
Behind us, the kitchen door opened and Poppy called, “If you two are having a tender moment, take ten more seconds, but Bella made cinnamon rolls and I’m not saving you any.”
Vina laughed into my shirt, wet and bright.
“Your girlfriends are feral,” she said.
“Our girlfriends.”
Her smile changed. Settled. Stayed.
“Yeah,” she said. “Our girlfriends.”
I took her hand and led her back inside.
Vina didn't look toward the cabin path this time.