𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 | f. w

28

Morning light seeped through the windows of Mattie's flat, casting long, gentle shadows across her room. She lay in bed for a few extra minutes, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of her ceiling, as though the patterns could somehow untangle the complicated web of her thoughts. Amelia's visit from the day before weighed heavily on her mind, resurfacing with each blink, each breath.

She sighed, finally pulling herself from bed and heading into the kitchen, her cat Chip winding around her ankles. As she scooped out his breakfast, her thoughts kept circling around that strange interaction with Amelia, replaying the details, the small smiles, the kindness in her voice.

Fred's fiancée.

Mattie's stomach clenched at the thought. She had known about Amelia in some distant, abstract way. It was easy to ignore a person you'd never seen, a name that had no face. But now, Amelia was painfully real—a woman with kind eyes and an open heart, the kind of person who would buy books as small surprises. Mattie shook her head as if the motion could clear away the ache that had settled in her chest.

The clock ticked louder than usual, urging her to get ready and head to the bookshop. She knew she needed the comfort of those shelves today, the safety of her routine.

As she stepped through the shop's front door, the familiar scent of old paper and polished wood greeted her like an old friend, offering a sense of calm that was both soothing and fragile. She inhaled deeply, letting the quiet settle over her as she flicked on the lights, the warm glow illuminating the shelves stacked high with stories waiting to be read.

With steady, practiced motions, she began her usual routine—sweeping the floor, dusting the bookshelves, and rearranging a few of the displays to keep things fresh. She took her time, letting each small task ground her, fill her thoughts, and push away the image of Amelia standing at her counter, asking for a poetry collection Fred loved.

How did he know about the shop? The question wormed its way back into her mind, unsettling her, gnawing at the edges of her concentration. She brushed it aside, focusing instead on unlocking the register, counting the bills with precision.

As the morning hours wore on, a few familiar faces drifted through the door—regulars who had their own spots in the shop, their own favorite corners. She greeted each one warmly, her smile practiced but genuine, and exchanged pleasantries with an ease born of familiarity.

"Morning, Peter!" she greeted a gray-haired man who came in every Tuesday morning, his reading glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose.

"Morning, Mattie," he replied with a smile, scanning the shelves. "Got anything new in history?"

She chuckled softly, nodding toward a section in the corner. "Just added a few titles last week. I think you'll enjoy them."

They exchanged a few more words before Peter shuffled off to his favorite chair, settling in with a satisfied sigh as he leafed through a worn history book. The rhythm of these exchanges was comforting, a reminder of the life she had built, the world she had created within these walls. Yet, even with that steady routine, her thoughts continued to drift, wandering back to Fred.

The sound of the door chime pulled her back, and she looked up to see Darcy bustling in, her expression full of purpose, her stride brisk as she made her way toward Mattie.

"There she is!" Darcy said, throwing her arms out dramatically. "Missed you last night. We were all just waiting for you to join us for that movie marathon."

Mattie managed a small smile, grateful for the distraction. "Sorry, Darce. It was a long day, and I just... needed some time."

Darcy's face softened, her usual lively demeanor tempered with gentle curiosity. "Yeah, I get it," she replied, leaning against the counter. "Everything alright?"