Page 72 of In Somnis

“Lucky for you, I’m a terrible negotiator,” he says easily, self-deprecating in a way I’m getting is his default. “How about tonight? Dinner service? I can show you around the kitchen properly.”

“Tonight works.”

“Perfect.” He looks genuinely pleased. “Sydney usually works dinner shift, so she’ll be there too.”

“Is she… the questionable life choice you mentioned earlier?”

His laugh comes out surprised and a little pained. “Yeah. That’s her. I’m working on it. The whole letting-that-go thing. Not going great, but I’m working on it.”

“Well,” I say softly. “For what it’s worth, anyone who doesn’t see what they have in front of them is an idiot.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know me yet.”

The words hit me with an unexpected echo.

“What if I do want to trade? Most of them have money and normal families. They fit in…”

Jasper said almost the exact same thing yesterday.

“Your brother said something similar,” I say. “When I told him he wasn’t weird.”

Nevan’s liar grin falters for a second. “Guess it runs in the family. Must be genetic. Or maybe it’s something in the water here.”

“Or maybe, you’re both wrong.”

He clears his throat and takes a step backward toward the house. “I should probably go check on Jasper and Mom, but I’ll see you tonight?”

“Tonight,” I confirm.

“Great. And, uh, thanks for saving my ass, again.”

“Just returning the favor.” I shrug. “You did pull me out of a death prophecy spiral.”

“Anytime you need rescuing from my mom’s doom and gloom, I’m your guy.”

As he turns toward their small house, I watch how he carries himself—shoulders square, stride confident, every inch the capable guy who runs this place.

But I’ve seen what’s underneath.

The exhaustion. The loneliness. The way he holds himself together with jokes and grit because falling apart isn’t an option.

I know that feeling too.

I wonder if he knows that I know. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to say sorry and hear it back. Two people who have both gotten very good at being fine, recognizing each other’s performance and choosing not to name it.

Before that awareness can turn into something heavier, I head back toward town with the crystal warm against my chest and too much buzzing under my skin.

When my thoughts start looping, I do what I always do when things feel unsteady.

Retail therapy.

It isn’t healing, but it’s adjacent. And right now, adjacent will do.

Half an hour later, the bell of the biggest shop in town jingles cheerfully as I step back out onto the sidewalk like it’s pleased with how much money I spent on emotional stability in the form of trinkets. I’m holding so much stuff that I have to tilt to the side to get the door to close behind me, and I swear the air hits colder than it did before.

God, I should have brought my Bumble Bitch.

Worth it, though. Absolutely worth it.