The words hang between us. I'm thinking about Nora—about us. A connection locked away, wounded. Needing careful tending. Potential hidden beneath layers of hurt and misunderstanding.

"And if the odds are constantly stacked against you?" I ask softly.

"Sometimes, love is about fighting the odds together." He pauses, eyes meeting mine.

Isn't that what it's always been with Nora? The push and pull, the way we can't seem to stay away from each other even when it feels like the world—or maybe just me—is trying to keep us apart.

"Then how do you know if it's worth it?" I ask, my voice quieter now, like I'm afraid of the answer.

Alfie chuckles softly. "You don't."

"You don't?" I raise an eyebrow, waiting for the punchline. But Alfie just keeps walking, his grin widening like he's about to drop some grenade of wisdom right into my lap.

"Sometimes you meet someone and you don't know how or why or what brought you together. But suddenly you can't imagine life without them. Everything feels lighter and brighter. It's better just because they exist. You forget who you were before them because you've never felt more like yourself than how you feel with them there."

I stare at him, absorbing every damn word about being someone's person, not just being there but fighting alongside them.

Alfie hands me a special edition of The Secret Garden with a gold-embossed leather cover. "This one's perfect for her," he grins.

Caught off guard, I frown.

"How'd you know it's for a girl?"

He chuckles, tapping his nose. "Seen plenty of lost boys in here, trying to fix things with someone who matters. I think you're forgetting I've been around for quite some time. Besides, she was looking at that one the other day when she was here."

Before I can reply, the door swings open, and a new face steps in.

"Ah, just in time. Nathaniel, meet Nick, he's just moved back to town."

Nick nods at me, his demeanor laid back but sharp. "Hey, nice to meet you Nathani⁠⁠—"

"Nate. Call me Nate."

I fucking hated Nathaniel.

"Nice to meet you, Nate." Nick holds his hand out, waiting for me to shake it.

When I do, I notice his hands are rough and calloused. Signs of a guy who works hard.

"Nick's setting up a new bar," Alfie continues. "But hit a bit of a hurdle with renovations."

Nick rubs his neck, frustration clear. "That's now two contractors who have bailed suddenly. Now I'm short on hands and don't know if we'll get to open before the summer is over."

An idea sparks in my mind.

"Need some help?"

He looks surprised. "Are you offering?"

I shrug, trying to play it cool, but honestly, the idea of having something—anything—to focus on besides the mess I've made feels like a lifeline.