Family

The bustling energy of downtown envelops me as I walk hand in hand with my family. Today, there's a small event happening in town, and it's an opportunity for me to immerse myself in the familiar sights and sounds of Rosewood. But as we navigate through the crowded square, I can't help but notice the lingering glances from the villagers.

Are they looking at me as if I'm a new person, or is it because I was missing for a while? The weight of their curious stares tugs at me, a reminder of the time I spent away from this place that I now call home once again. I tighten my grip on Nesa's arm, seeking comfort in her presence.

As we continue walking, I steal a glance at the Alpha, who has chosen to stay behind today. Since our return to Rosewood, he's been distant, his silence casting a shadow over our interactions. I wonder what occupies his thoughts, why he seems so withdrawn.

The noise of the crowd fills the air, punctuated by laughter and conversations, but an unspoken tension lingers within our group. It's as if the unspoken weight of our shared experiences weighs heavily upon us, casting a solemnity over the day's festivities.

Nesa's voice breaks through the quiet, her warm tone offering a gentle reassurance. "Don't worry about them," she whispers, her words meant for my ears alone. "They're just curious. It's been a while since they've seen you."

Her words provide a small measure of solace, a reminder that the villagers' curiosity stems from a place of genuine concern. Still, the weight of their gazes and the absence of the Alpha's presence remain as a lingering ache within me.

We weave through the crowd, taking in the sights and sounds of the event. Children giggle and run past us, their excitement infectious. I try to immerse myself in the joy of the moment, allowing the vibrancy of Rosewood to wash over me. But my thoughts keep drifting back to the Alpha and the enigmatic silence that surrounds him.

In a way, I understand his need for solitude, for introspection. Our shared journey has left its mark on all of us, and each of us copes in our own way. But a part of me longs for the connection we once shared, for the ease of conversation and laughter that used to flow freely between us.

As the day unfolds, I find myself stealing glances at the Alpha, hoping for a sign, a spark of engagement. But he remains distant, his thoughts hidden behind a veil of quiet contemplation.

The hours slip by, and eventually, the event comes to an end. The crowd begins to disperse, and we make our way back home. The silence between us is palpable, an unspoken acknowledgment of the weight that lingers within our hearts.

As we walk, I hold onto the hope that, in time, the Alpha will find solace and healing. And that, together, we can navigate the complexities of our shared journey, finding a way to bridge the gap that has formed between us.

But for now, I focus on the warmth of Nesa's presence beside me, drawing strength from the familiar embrace of family. The journey continues, and in the heart of Rosewood, amidst the ebb and flow of life, I remain steadfast in my belief that healing and understanding will eventually find their way to us all.

~

I step into the house, the soft glow of the hallway lighting my way. It's late, and the weariness from the day settles upon my shoulders. As I close the door behind me, I notice that the Alpha is nowhere to be seen. His absence has become a familiar sight since our return to Rosewood.

"Goodnight, Mel!" Nesa's voice echoes from upstairs as she plants a gentle kiss on my cheek before disappearing into her room. I watch her retreating figure, grateful for the unwavering support and love she continues to shower upon me.

A familiar figure catches my eye as my father walks toward me. There is a silence between us, but it no longer carries the tension that once strained our relationship. Time and distance have mended the wounds, allowing us to reconnect in a way we never thought possible.

"Your sister really cares for you," he says, his voice filled with genuine warmth. I nod, a soft smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Nesa's unwavering love has been a beacon of light throughout my journey, a reminder that family bonds are not easily broken.

I fiddle with the wooden box in my hand, its weight a tangible reminder of the significance of this moment. "Thank you for buying us dinner," I express, grateful for the simple act of kindness that bridges the gap between us.

Father's smile widens, his eyes filled with an unspoken understanding. "Goodnight, my daughter," he says, his words carrying a sense of sincerity and affection. The weight of his love and acceptance washes over me, filling the space that was once filled with bitterness and resentment.

As he turns to retire for the night, I watch him walk away, a newfound appreciation blooming within me. The journey we have traversed has been tumultuous, but it has also brought us closer, unveiling the strength of our familial bond.

I stand her for a moment, then I remember that I have to look for the Alpha. I step out of the kitchen, my curiosity piqued as I make my way toward the back of the house. The door creaks softly as I open it, revealing the serene landscape beyond. The golden sunlight filters through the trees, casting a warm glow upon the surroundings.

As I venture further, I catch a glimpse of the Alpha, standing near the edge of the backyard, a glass of my father's wine in his hand. His presence, at once commanding and enigmatic, draws my attention. His blue eyes, vibrant and alive, twinkle under the sun's gentle caress.

He looks at me, a small smile playing on his lips. The sight of him, immersed in this tranquil setting, stirs a mix of emotions within me. Uncertainty, curiosity, and a flicker of something more.

"I brought you something," I say, MY voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Intrigued, the Alpha gestures to me to come closer. I approach Alpha Rhys, clutching the wooden box tightly in my hands. As I hand it to him, he accepts it graciously, his fingers gently prying open the lid. Inside, he finds a selection of pastries, carefully arranged and crafted with love.

"I don't normally eat sweets, but I appreciate the gesture," he remarks, placing the box down beside him. His eyes meet mine, and I can detect a hint of warmth in his gaze. I take a seat nearby, settling into the comfort of the moment.

"How was your night?" he asks, his tone sincere. I consider his question, recalling the laughter and joy that filled the air during our family gathering. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips.

"It was fun," I reply, a twinkle of happiness in my eyes. The memories of the evening bring a sense of contentment, reminding me of the importance of cherishing moments of togetherness.

"Good to know," he replies, his voice carrying a note of genuine interest. I notice the slight relaxation in his posture, as if he's allowing himself to let go of the weight he carries as the Alpha.

"You should have followed us," I suggest, a playful glint in my eyes. "It would have been nice to have you there with us." The invitation is extended with sincerity, a desire to include him in our moments of joy.

"Yes, but I didn't want to intrude on your little family gathering," he responds, his words laced with a hint of consideration. I shake my head, a playful smirk forming on my lips.

"Well, you are kinda like family now that we're mated," I tease, the words slipping out before I can fully gauge their impact. The Alpha raises an eyebrow, his eyes locked on mine, a mixture of surprise and amusement dancing within them.

"We are family?" he questions, the tone of his voice laced with curiosity. I feel a faint heat rising to my cheeks, realizing the unintended weight my words may carry. I quickly backpedal, my voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Don't flatter yourself," I say, my words laced with playful defiance. "It was just a figure of speech." Rhys chuckles, taking a sip from his drink, his laughter filling the air.

"Whatever you say," he responds, a trace of amusement lingering in his voice. I relax, the tension dissipating with his light-hearted reaction. In that moment, I'm reminded of the complexity and intricacy of our connection—a blend of camaraderie, affection, and occasional banter.

"If you don't want the sweets then I'll eat it."

"Help yourself out."

I take a seat next to him. As we sit there, enveloped in a comfortable silence, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the bond we share. Whether or not we are considered family, our paths have intertwined, and together we navigate the challenges and joys that lie ahead.