Alfie's eyes twinkle. "I see you've met my nephew, Nick. He'll be with us through the summer. Hopefully longer." His tone carries a weight of expectation.

Nick gives a noncommittal shrug, but there's a hint of fondness in his expression. "We'll see, Uncle. Still got some things to figure out."

Alfie turns to Jake, who's been quietly observing our exchange with that half-smile of his. "And you, young man, better be taking good care of Nora here."

"I try, sir," Jake responds, his tone light but his eyes serious. "But she can be a handful."

The familiar warmth of the bookstore, the presence of people who care, it wraps around me like well-worn pages. Here, the weight lifts, if only briefly. Nick's presence adds something new to the familiar scene, like a fresh chapter in a beloved book.

"What's caught your eye lately?" Alfie asks, genuinely curious as always. He settles into his chair, a sign that we're in for one of his famous book talks.

"The Fault in Our Stars," I respond, continuing without prompting. “I like the books without fairy-tale endings.” I take a look around the store, admiring my surroundings. “They’re nice reminders of how temporary all this really is."

His smile illuminates the room. "That's quite a mature insight. Come, let me show you some limited editions we just got in."

I follow Alfie down one of the aisles and that vintage book scent wraps around me, making me feel more at home than anywhere else.

"It's really good to see you, Alfie," I manage, voice catching.

"Well, you were missed last summer," he replies, patting my shoulder. His eyes hold a mix of sadness and understanding. "I've had my share of losses too. Lost my Gracie years back. But she's still here. In every story, every book I touch."

"Do you believe in soulmates, Alfie?" The question slips out without a second thought.

He smiles wistfully. "I do. But soulmates aren't just lovers. They're friends, family. The connections that shape us, help us heal. Gracie reminded me of that often."

We spend the morning trading stories with Nick, soaking in Alfie's casual wisdom.

"Remember when Alfie claimed he hung out with Stephen King?" Jake grins.

Nick's eyes widen. "You never told me that, Uncle.”

Alfie laughs. "Well, 'met' might be stretching it. Saw him at a signing. Makes for a better story though, doesn't it?"

As we browse the aisles later, Jake pulls out a battered edition of The Secret Garden.

"Remember that summer we tried making our own secret garden with Ollie and Nate?" he asks, nostalgia coloring his voice.

I laugh. "Yeah, until Mrs. Lowell's dog literally shat all over it."

He flips through pages, golden-chestnut hair falling just right across his forehead, those ridiculous eyelashes making him look like an indie film lead. "You were quite the hit at the party last night," I tease.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, every girl there was practically gawking at you."