Page 10 of Mated By Sunrise

"Thank you for meeting with us today, Rochelle," Mrs. Parker said, her voice soft but steady. "We’ve been talking about finally settling down for good. A little house by the lake—somewhere quiet."

"It sounds perfect. I’ll help you with whatever paperwork you need to get in order."

As she began gathering the necessary forms, Rochelle's eyes kept drifting to the two of them—the way Mrs. Parker's hand rested gently on her husband’s arm, the way Mr. Parker looked at his wife as if she were the only person in the room. They radiated a kind of love that felt… effortless.

Shifters had their bond that they felt like the moon's pull. But Mr. Parker wasn’t a shifter. He couldn’t feel the bond like his wife could. And yet, there he was, devoted to her in a way that made Rochelle’s chest tighten.

“How did you know it would last? I mean… you don’t feel the bond like she does. How did you know?” It was a rude question, and Rochelle was about to apologize. But the couple laughed.

Mr. Parker looked at his wife, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and for a moment, it was as if the years they’d spent together replayed in his eyes. “I couldn’t imagine a day without her. Didn’t matter if it was a good day or a bad one. I was happy to have all of them—with her.”

Rochelle swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the paperwork, her hand trembling slightly as she handed Mr. Parker the form. “Here you go. Just need your signatures.”

But even as she tried to smile, her mind was elsewhere—back on the empty bench outside, the place where Caleb should have been. The place where he always was.

And suddenly, his absence wasn’t a relief anymore. It gnawed at her, a quiet ache that settled deep in her chest, refusing to be ignored.

The Parkers finished their paperwork, thanking her kindly as they left. Rochelle sat in silence for a long time, staring at the forms in front of her but seeing nothing. The image of Caleb’s empty seat burned into her mind.

He was really gone, wasn’t he?

The thought sent a ripple of fear through her, an emotion she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She had always assumed Caleb would be there. That no matter what happened, he would wait for her. But now he wasn’t waiting. He had finally let go.

The midday sun was warm against Rochelle’s skin as she stepped out of the bank, her thoughts still lingering on the elderly couple and their quiet, enduring love. The weight of their words—of Mr. Parker’s simple declaration that he didn’t need a bond, just the knowledge that he couldn’t imagine a day without his wife—sat heavy in her chest. She had shaken off the feeling at work, but now as she walked toward the small café down the street, the knot of tension in her stomach twisted tighter.

She pushed the door open, the familiar scent of fresh bread and roasted vegetables wafting out to greet her. The café wassmall and cozy, and usually a place of refuge. A place where she could sit and let the noise of the town fade into the background while she gathered her thoughts. But today, something felt off.

Rochelle stepped inside, letting the cool air wash over her, and was just about to place her order when she saw him.

Caleb.

Her breath caught in her throat, her body freezing as her eyes locked on to the table by the window. Caleb sat there, his broad shoulders relaxed, his easy smile aimed at the woman sitting across from him. The woman, the barista from the coffee shop a couple of streets over, laughed softly at something he said, her hand reaching out to touch his arm.

Rochelle’s stomach dropped, an unexpected and unfamiliar sensation of jealousy twisting in her gut.

She didn’t move, standing half-hidden in the doorway, watching as Caleb leaned in, his smile soft and genuine. The way he looked at the woman—the way his eyes crinkled at the edges, the warmth in his gaze—it was the same look he’d given Rochelle so many times before. And yet, seeing it directed at someone else sent a sharp jolt of anger through her chest.

He'd never been familiar with another woman. Never looked at them. Barely smiled at them. And none had ever bothered to approach him because… Because…

Rochelle swallowed hard, ducking into the shadows by the doorway, watching from the corner of her eye as Caleb and the woman continued their conversation. Her head told her to leave, to walk away, to not care about what she saw. But she couldn’t move. Instead, she stayed there, hidden, watching as the woman stood up to leave. Caleb’s smile lingered as she leaned down to say something to him, and then, with a soft laugh, she turned and headed toward the door.

Rochelle’s body reacted before her mind did. She stepped out into the sunlight, the barista walking right past her withoutnoticing. But Rochelle couldn’t stop herself from brushing up against her, just enough to get her attention.

“Oh, sorry,” Rochelle muttered, glancing up as the woman turned.

"Why am I not surprised to see you today? Trying to get him back on your little string?"

Rochelle blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. “What?”

The barista crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. “You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, don’t you? You come and go, keep him waiting, keep him hoping. If you don’t want him, you should let him go.”

Heat surged through Rochelle’s body, a mix of anger and defensiveness bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. “I never?—”

“You never what?” the woman interrupted, her voice rising slightly. “You never claimed him? Never accepted the bond? Maybe not in so many words. But everyone can see it—I can see it. My friend, she’s a wolf shifter, said she can smell Caleb on you from a mile away. You might not say you’ve got him, but even with my human eyes, I can see how he looks at you. You won’t claim him outright, but you’re still holding him back.”

“I never had him.”

The barista scoffed, shaking her head. “Maybe not officially. But everyone knows it. If you were decent, if you really didn’t want him, you’d let him go. For good.”

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