By the Book

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Shattering Connections

The soft hum of the car heater filled the silence as I drove through the nearly deserted streets, the snow falling in lazy spirals outside the windshield. The day had faded into a blur of gray and white, and though the city was cloaked in holiday lights, I barely noticed. The glowing strings wrapped around lampposts and twinkling displays in storefront windows were just blurs of color in my peripheral vision.

I turned down the familiar street, the café's sign coming into view through the haze of snow. The Tattered Tome stood out against the soft glow of the evening, its warm lights spilling onto the sidewalk. I parked along the curb, my stomach twisting with nerves.

The small gift in my bag felt heavier than it should have—a simple, meaningful gesture that had taken me days to decide on. I hadn't spoken to Miles since I'd left him a voicemail three days ago. Not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't figure out what to say. Between the weight of Eleanor's secret, my father's illness, and the mess of emotions inside me, I didn't trust myself to speak without breaking.

I stepped out of the car, the cold biting at my skin as I tightened my scarf around my neck. The snow crunched under my boots as I approached the door, hesitating for just a moment before pushing it open.

The door's bell jingled softly as I stepped inside, the warmth of the café wrapping around me like a long-forgotten embrace. The familiar scent of coffee and books filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of cinnamon and nutmeg. The space was quieter than usual, the soft murmur of voices replaced by the faint hum of holiday music playing from the speakers.

Miles was behind the counter, his back turned as he rinsed a tray of mugs in the sink. His shoulders were hunched slightly, his movements slow and deliberate, like the weight of the day had settled heavily on him. I hesitated near the door, the gift bag twisting in my fingers as I debated whether I should just turn around and leave.

Before I could decide, he turned, his eyes catching mine. For a moment, his expression froze—his brow furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then, as if a weight had lifted from him, his face broke into a relieved smile, and he set the tray down with a clatter.

"Kara," he breathed, his voice warm and full of something I couldn't quite name. He moved toward me quickly, brushing his hands against his apron as though it would make him more presentable. "You're here."

The genuine relief in his voice sent a pang through my chest. "Hi," I managed, my voice softer than I intended.

"I thought—" He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair as he looked me over, his eyes searching mine. "I've been worried about you," he admitted. "You just... disappeared. I didn't know if you were okay."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, the weight of his concern settling over me. "I didn't mean to worry you. Things have just been... complicated."

He shook his head, stepping closer. "It's okay. You're here now. That's what matters."

Before I could say anything more, he gestured toward one of the tables near the window. "Come on, sit down. You must be freezing. I'll make us some coffee."

"I'm fine, really—" I started, but he was already moving behind the counter, pulling out mugs and the bag of beans he always saved for special occasions.

I let out a soft sigh, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly as I made my way to the table. The café felt so familiar, so steady, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort of it. I placed the gift bag on the table in front of me, my fingers brushing over the ribbon as I tried to gather my thoughts.

Miles returned a few minutes later, setting two steaming mugs down before sliding into the chair across from me. His smile was softer now, his eyes warmer as they lingered on mine.