Chapter 70 Catching feelings
Hannah
I woke up before my alarm, sunlight barely creeping through the curtains, my mind already awake and annoyingly alert. For a few seconds, I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out why my chest felt… light. Not restless. Not heavy. Just, buoyant, like I’d swallowed helium in my sleep.
Then last night replayed itself in soft flashes.
The kitchen.
The cereal.
The whispering goodnights.
I groaned and rolled onto my side, burying my face in the pillow.
“Get it together, Hannah,” I muttered.
Momo chose that moment to whine softly from his bed.
I lifted my head. “You too?”
He thumped his tail like he’d been waiting for permission.
Breakfast.
That thought pushed me out of bed.
By the time I got downstairs, Timothy was already at the dining table, tablet propped beside his plate, sleeves rolled up, looking annoyingly put together for someone who’d clearly also slept late.
He glanced up when he heard my footsteps.
“There she is,” he said mildly. “How are the ankles this morning?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You were very vocal about them last night.”
I scoffed as I pulled out a chair. “I was traumatized.”
“Yet here you are. Walking.”
“Barely,” I said solemnly, then added, “But they’re fine. No lasting damage.”
He hummed, amused, and slid a plate toward me. “Eat.”
I smiled without thinking. “Bossy.”
“Effective.”
Momo trotted in behind me, nose already pointed toward the kitchen.
“Oh, relax,” I told him, crouching to scratch behind his ears. “You’re coming too.”
Timothy looked up. “To the shelter?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded once. “Good. We’ll go together.”
Something warm fluttered in my chest at the casual ‘we’.
We ate, talking about nothing and everything; traffic, the weather, how Momo was apparently gaining an attitude. It felt easy. Too easy.
And that scared me just a little.
The car ride was calm. Momo sat between us like a furry chaperone while Timothy glanced at his phone and I watched the city wake up.
When we pulled up to the shelter, I turned to him. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime,” he said. “Have a good day.”
“You too.”
I hesitated, then added, “Don’t work yourself into the ground.”
He looked at me, surprised, then smiled faintly. “I’ll try.”
I got out before I could overthink that exchange.
The moment I walked inside, the familiar chaos wrapped around me of barking, laughter, the smell of disinfectant and fur.
“Hannah!” one of the volunteers called.
“Morning!” I replied, already tying my apron.
Sienna spotted me near the kennels and marched over, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
She took one look at my face and narrowed her eyes. “Why are you glowing?”
I laughed. “I’m not glowing.”
“You’re smiling like you won the lottery.”
“I just…I dunno, had a good morning?”
She stared at me for a beat, then pulled me into a hug. “Uh-huh. Suspicious.”
Work helped. It always did.
I cleaned kennels, walked dogs, helped a family pick out the sweetest little terrier who immediately peed on the floor out of excitement. I talked to customers, reassured anxious adopters, laughed when one of the cats tried to climb my hair.
I felt… good.
Too good.
By lunch break, Sienna was already shrugging on her jacket. “Come on. You’re buying.”
“Excuse you?”
“You’re in a good mood. It’s the law.”
Our guards trailed us at a polite distance as we walked to our usual spot. The waiter didn’t even need to ask.
“The usual?” he said.
“Yes,” I replied, then paused. “Actually…add fries. And the pasta.”
Sienna’s eyebrows shot up. “Oooh. Carbs?”
I grinned. “All of them.”
She waited until our food arrived before leaning forward, eyes sharp. “Okay. Talk. You look like you took a happy pill.”
I laughed, biting my lip. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m already judging.”
I exhaled slowly. “Okay. So. Remember when I told you Timothy and I had that… issue?”
“The stood-up dinner?”
“Yeah. That.” I hesitated, then plunged ahead. “We talked. Fought a bit. Then had dinner. Played pool. Watched a show. Fell asleep.”
Sienna blinked. “You what?”
“Nothing happened,” I rushed. “We just—talked. Laughed. Had a lot of fun.”
“And?”
“And now things are… I dunno…different.”
Her eyes softened. “Different how?”
I smiled despite myself. “Better.”
She studied me for a long moment, then said gently, “Girl.”
My smile faltered. “What?”
She sighed. “You’re catching feelings for him.”
I laughed too quickly. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No, we’re just on good terms.”
“Hannah,” she said softly, “being on good terms doesn’t make you float into work like this.”
My chest tightened. “You’re reading too much into it.”
She reached across the table and took my hand. “I’m not trying to ruin your happiness. I just don’t want you hurt.”
“He wouldn’t,” I said automatically.
She raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t he?”
Images flashed through my mind, his coldness, his sudden kindness, the way he could switch like a flipped coin.
My appetite vanished.
Sienna checked the time. “We should eat. Break’s almost over.”
I took a few bites, barely tasting anything.
The walk back felt longer.
At the shelter entrance, she stopped me. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
I hugged her. “You didn’t. Thank you for looking out for me.”
Back inside, as I returned to my duties, the truth settled heavy and undeniable.
She was right.
Somewhere between shared cereal and whispered goodnights, I’d started falling.
And I was absolutely, completely fucked