Page 21 of Beary In Love

The sunset painted her living room in shades of orange and pink through the dusty windows. She should clean them. She should unpack. She should do a lot of things.

Instead, she kicked off her shoes and curled up on the couch, pulling the throw blanket around her shoulders. The house creaked and settled around her, its unfamiliar sounds a constant reminder that this wasn't really home yet.

"Maybe I should get a cat," she mused, then laughed at herself. "Right, because that's exactly what I need - another living thing depending on me when I can't even figure out my own life."

Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since breakfast. The kitchen beckoned, but the thought of cooking felt overwhelming. She dragged herself up and opened her nearly empty fridge.

"Well, that's depressing." Three eggs, half a carton of milk, and some questionable takeout containers stared back at her. "Even my refrigerator is judging my life choices."

The check in her pocket would help with groceries, at least. But it wasn't a long-term solution. She closed the fridge and leaned against it, sliding down until she sat on the cold tile floor.

"Come on, Serena," she whispered to herself. "You used to be good at fixing things. That's what you do - fix sick animals, make potions, solve problems." She pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. "So why can't you fix your own life?"

The kitchen clock ticked loudly in response, its rhythm matching her racing thoughts. Outside, a car door slammed, and voices drifted up from the street - other people living their normal, put-together lives.

Serena soon pulled her laptop from her bag and settled back on the couch. Her browser history was filled with job searches and clinic listings. But each tab was a dead end. She clicked through them again, hoping she'd missed something.

"Maybe I should've stayed in the city," she muttered. The screen's glow highlighted the faint circles under her eyes. "At least there I had more options."

Her savings account balance glared at her from another tab - a number that kept shrinking with each passing week. The divorce had cleaned her out more than she'd expected, and her ex-husband's lawyer had been ruthlessly efficient.

"I could start my own practice." She opened a spreadsheet she'd made earlier that week, full of calculations and estimates. The numbers hadn't gotten any friendlier. "Right, because that only requires a small fortune I don't have."

Her phone buzzed again. Julie's text read: "Stop ignoring me or I'll flood your bathroom."

Serena snorted and typed back: "You wouldn't dare. My plumbing's ancient enough without your water magic messing with it."

"Then answer your phone, you hermit."

"I'm working."

"You're overthinking. I know you."

Serena sighed and set the phone down. The cursor blinked on her screen, mocking her indecision. She'd applied to every clinic within fifty miles of Saltwater Grove. Even the ones that weren't hiring, just in case.

"What was I thinking?" She closed the laptop and slumped deeper into the couch. "Coming back here with no job, no plan..." The ceiling offered no answers. "Great going, Serena. You've really outdone yourself this time."

The doorbell startled Serena from her spiral of self-pity. She dragged herself off the couch, assuming Julie had made good on her threat to check up on her.

"I swear if you've come to lecture me-" The words died in her throat as she opened the door.

Logan stood on her tiny porch, his broad shoulders making the space seem even smaller. His dark hair was windswept, and he'd changed out of his work clothes into a soft-looking t-shirt. The porch light caught the gold flecks in his brown eyes.

"Hey." He shifted his weight, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Julie gave me your address. I, uh, hope that's okay."

Serena's heart thundered against her ribs. Her hair was a mess, she hadn't changed out of her work clothes, and her house was still mostly in boxes. Not exactly how she'd planned on having company - especially not this particular company.

"I needed to apologize." Logan said, his voice softer than usual. "What I said earlier about you leaving... that wasn't fair. I've had ten years to think about it, and I was just as much to blame. More, probably."

The crickets chirped in the growing darkness, filling the silence between them. A cool breeze carried the scent of pine trees and something distinctly Logan - a mix of wood and forest that made her chest ache with memories.

"I was young and stupid and so damn set in my ways." He let out a short laugh. "Still am, sometimes. But I should have supported your dreams instead of making you choose. You wanted to be a vet - that was important to you. I see that now, watching you with the animals at the sanctuary."

Serena's fingers tightened on the doorframe, her knuckles white. She wanted to speak, but her throat felt too tight.

"And speaking of the sanctuary..." Logan met her eyes, his expression earnest. "I'd still like your help, if you're willing. The animals need you. And maybe..." He cleared his throat. "Maybe we could do better than we did before."

Serena's mouth opened and closed, her brain struggling to form words. The porch light cast shadows across Logan's face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

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