Chapter 30 The quiet ways we care
Chapter 30: The Quiet Ways We Care
That night, Golden lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t know what this was. What label it fit. What future it promised.
She only knew one thing: Whatever was happening between them…
felt right. Messy and complicated. Uncertain and fragile. But right. And for now, just for now, that was enough. The days that followed felt strangely gentle.
Golden and Allan didn’t label anything—not friendship, not romance, not the fragile, thrilling thread that kept pulling them back to each other.
But something was happening. Something calm yet electric, something that made Golden’s chest warm whenever he walked into the estate, and made Allan’s shoulders drop a little, like he could finally breathe.
They didn’t talk about it. They just… existed side by side. And somehow, that felt safer than defining it.
The break would be over in a week. What would happen to the soft bubble they have built?
The estate was their cocoon, their safe space where they silently felt away from prying eyes.
Golden didn't want to think about it. She just silently enjoyed what they had.
One time they were by the pond. Golden sitting and reading a book. Allan laying with his head on her lap sketching.
His phone dinged, signaling a message had dropped.
Mom: Don't forget Rema's appointment tomorrow, I need to take Octavia to the market to get a few things.
Rema’s next doctor’s appointment was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, and Allan didn’t even need to ask, Golden simply said,
“I’m coming with you.”
He tried to argue. She crossed her arms. That settled it.
At the hospital, the fluorescent lights were too bright, too cold, and Rema’s soft, tired breathing tugged at Golden’s heart. The doctor explained the new medication schedule, the check-up dates, the cost of keeping the infection at bay.
Allan nodded the whole time, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the floor. Golden noticed. She noticed everything.
On their way out, he paused to check the bill. He tried to hide the way his breath hitched, but Golden caught it.
He didn’t say a word. She didn’t push.
She waited at the bus stop with them for their bus.
She wanted to drop them at home but Allan said no. She didn't argue. They were not there yet so she sat and waited till the bus came.
She watched them get on the bus, then turned to head home.
That night she sent him some money. No description, nothing. She sent just enough to cover the medicine and some extra change.
She would have sent more but didn't want to push it. By the next morning, her phone buzzed.
Allan: You sent money.
Then another message, almost instantly:
Allan: Why?
Golden smiled softly.
Golden: For the medicine. Before you start arguing, don’t. Just use it.
He didn’t reply immediately. It took him seven minutes.
Allan: Thank you. Really, I’m grateful.
And for Allan, who didn’t say more than he absolutely had to, that was a paragraph. Golden put her phone away and got out of bed to prepare for the day.
Meanwhile, Allan stared at his phone for a while. He stared at the money in his account deep in thought.
The money would cover for Rema's medicine for the next two months and there would be a little left to sort out some bills.
Then a dangerous thought flashed through his mind.
Maybe being with Golden wasn't such a bad idea. At least he wouldn't have to worry about Rema's medicine.
He immediately shut down the stray thought and hurried out to buy the medicine.
He still had to go to the tattoo parlor and then drop by the estate.
Florence returned to work two days later, and from the first moment she saw Allan show up again, she squinted like someone connecting dots.
Golden was in the garden arranging new flower vases for the lobby when Florence walked over, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Miss Golden,” she said warmly, “you’re glowing.”
Golden blinked. “I…what?”
“Mhm.” Florence smiled knowingly. “And Allan is… here. Frequently.”
Golden nearly dropped the vase. “He’s just helping around because you weren’t around.”
“Mhm,” Florence repeated, but this time with raised eyebrows.
Golden's cheek flushed crimson red and she avoided looking directly at Florence.
“How's Rema doing?” she asked trying to change the topic.
“He's doing great” she said with a warm smile. “He has began to go outside to play now.
If you need anything, I'll be inside” she said and returned to the house.
Golden let out a shaky breathe she didn't know she was holding.
It felt like everyone could see through her.
Although she was happy, she didn't want anything bursting the little bubble that was wrapped around her.
Later that evening, Florence caught Allan in the staff hallway.
“Allan,” she said, arms folded.
He sighed. “What did I do now?”
Florence stepped closer.
“I see the way you look at her,” she whispered.
He froze. “What are you talking about Ma?” he asked pretending not to know.
“Golden!” she responded, playing along.
“I see the way she looks at you. Don’t hurt that girl.”
Allan swallowed hard.
“I’m not… trying to hurt her.”
“I know,” Florence said gently. “But people like you who carry heavy things sometimes hurt others without meaning to.”
He didn’t argue because… she wasn’t wrong.
Florence touched his arm.
“She cares. Anyone can see that. Just… be sure.”
“I wouldn't be coming home tonight. Take care of kids okay?” she patted him on the shoulders and headed to the kitchen.
Allan bumped into Golden on his way out. He had gotten a message from Rex to come to the tattoo parlor for a last minute shift.
The clients were important and he promised a generous tip.
“We seem to always bump into each other” he smirked as he steadied her.
“Leaving already?”
“Yeah, last minute shift at the parlor. See me off?”
“Sure!” Golden walked with Allan till they got to where his bike was parked.
He got on this bike and as he was about to put on his helmet, Golden decided to do something bold.
She stepped forward, wrapped her arm around his neck and gave him a deep kiss.
“ride safe!” she turned around and ran back into the house without looking back.
Allan was lost for a few seconds. He smirked, put on his helmet and rode off into the night.
But that night, while sketching at the tattoo parlor between clients, he found himself thinking about Golden more than the lines on the page.
About the soft way she said his name.
The steady way she stood beside him.
The quiet way she helped without making him feel small.
He thought about the kiss
Her expression as she fled
Could he have something with her,
Or would he hurt her like his mother said?...