Dreamcatcher

Chapter 9 - Wednesday

Paige had brought in a stack of bridal magazines to work today, her excitement palpable. She had already designated herself as my Maid of Honor—no surprise there, though I had been planning to ask her anyway. I didn't mind; her enthusiasm was infectious. She flipped through the pages, babbling on about how we should plan for a June wedding, insisting that weddings in June were good luck, guaranteeing long, happy marriages.

I was nodding along, half-listening as she gushed about dresses and flower arrangements, when the familiar sound of the bell above the door rang. I looked up, and there he was—Dean.

This time, he didn't have that easygoing grin or playful swagger. He looked tense, his shoulders tight with the weight of something heavy. But when our eyes met, the tension in his body seemed to ease a little, his expression softening, if only for a moment. He quickly took a seat in my section.

My heart did a small flip as I grabbed the pot of coffee, heading over to him. I couldn't help the smirk that played on my lips when I reached his table.

"Missed you the last two days," I said, pouring the coffee into his cup.

Dean finally smiled back, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, sorry about that. Got caught up with a work thing."

The smile faded almost as soon as it appeared. His gaze shifted from my face to my hand, where the engagement ring sparkled in the dim diner light. I saw the way his eyes lingered on it, the shift in his expression—something like disappointment or maybe realization flashing across his face.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The weight of the unspoken words hung in the air between us, thick and heavy. I shifted on my feet, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"You okay?" I asked, trying to break the tension.

Dean looked up, meeting my eyes again, but his smile was gone. "Yeah... just a lot on my mind." His voice was quieter than usual, the playful edge missing. It was like something had changed, and I wasn't sure what to make of it.

I wanted to say something, anything to fill the silence, but all I could do was stand there, gripping the coffee pot like it was my lifeline. The ring on my finger felt heavier than ever, like it was anchoring me to a reality I wasn't sure I belonged to anymore.

I force a smile, trying to break the tension hanging between us like a thick fog. "What can I get you today, Dean?"

His green eyes meet mine, but there's no warmth, no teasing smirk. Just a seriousness that sends a chill down my spine. "Just the usual," he says, his voice flat. "Coffee and pie."

I blink, taken aback by his tone. The playful banter that usually came so easily between us is gone, replaced by something darker. The unease in my chest tightens, but I nod and walk away, my mind racing as I head to the kitchen. I can feel his eyes following me, and it's unsettling. What the hell is going on with him?

Grabbing a slice of blueberry pie from the case, I try to shake off the nerves. But the knot in my stomach refuses to loosen. This isn't the Dean I've come to know. This is someone else—someone who's on edge, someone who seems... dangerous, almost.

I take the plate back to him, keeping my smile steady, hoping to ease whatever tension has built up between us. "Today's pie is blueberry," I say, setting the plate down in front of him. But before I can pull away, Dean's hand shoots out, grabbing mine.

The sudden contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, my heart skipping a beat. Dean's grip tightened just slightly on my hand, pulling me closer so that his voice could drop to a low whisper in my ear. The shift in his tone, the way he was watching me, sent a chill down my spine. He wasn't the laid-back, teasing Dean I'd come to expect. This was different—serious, almost desperate.