Page 48 of Wisteria and Cloves

The easy way he included me in that "we" made my chest warm. As if I already belonged here, already part of their complex dynamic rather than an outsider looking in.

"I should let you get to your training," I said, though part of me wanted to keep talking. There was something soothing about Nicolaus's direct approach to conversation—no hidden meanings or social minefields to navigate.

"Actually," he paused, studying me with that analytical gaze, "would you like to come with me? Not to swim," he added quickly, seeing my expression. "Just to see the facility. You could bring a book, sit in the observation area. Sometimes a change of environment helps when processing new experiences."

The invitation surprised me. "Wouldn't I be in your way?"

"Not at all. I train alone most mornings anyway." He tilted his head slightly. "Besides, you might find it interesting. The pool has floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the river. Good natural light for reading."

I considered the offer. The idea was tempting, “If the offer is open on a different day…” I am still getting used to everything and I don’t feel comfortable leaving the house yet.

He shook his head, “The offer is an open invitation. Whenever you feel up to it, tell me.”

"Thank you for understanding," I said, warmth blooming in my chest at his easy acceptance of my boundary. No pressure, no disappointment—just simple acknowledgment of my comfort level.

"Of course." He glanced at the clock. "I should get going. Enjoy your quiet morning—the others won't be up for at least another hour."

"Will you tell me about your training sometime?" I asked, surprising myself with my interest. "What's it like, preparing for something like the Olympics?"

A small smile touched his lips. "I'd like that." He gathered his swim bag and paused at the doorway. "There's more coffee in the pot if you want it. And the back porch gets excellent morning light if you're looking for a peaceful place to sit."

After he left, I found myself drawn to the back door, coffee mug in hand. The porch was small but inviting, and I moved and sat down. I would enjoy just watching the sun come up before going and getting ready for the day. For now…I would enjoy the quiet of the morning.

Chapter Seventeen

Lilianna

Ididn’t know how long I sat there, but my coffee was gone and sitting to the side of me. The morning air had grown warmer around me as I sat in comfortable silence, watching the garden come alive with the rising sun. Bees hummed lazily among Miles's flowering herbs, and I could hear the distant sounds of the city waking up—car doors closing, the rumble of early commuters, the cheerful chime of a bicycle bell from the street beyond.

The back door opened behind me, and I turned to see Julian stepping onto the porch with his own mug of coffee. His hair was slightly mussed from sleep, and he wore a simple gray t-shirt and dark joggers that made him look younger, more approachable than his usual polished appearance.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice still carrying the roughness of early morning. "Nicolaus sent me a text saying you were out here before he left the house."

I nodded, scooting over slightly on the porch step to make room. Julian settled beside me with a quiet sigh, close enough that I could catch hints of his scent hitting my nose.

"I hope he didn't wake you up just to check on me," I said, suddenly worried that I'd disrupted their routines.

Julian chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "No, I'm usually up by six. Habit from years of morning training sessions." He gestured toward the garden. "It's peaceful out here, isn't it? Miles has created something special."

"It feels alive," I agreed, watching a butterfly land on a cluster of purple flowers. "My parents' garden was beautiful, but... sterile somehow. Nothing out of place, nothing unexpected."

Julian nodded thoughtfully. "Control versus cultivation. Your parents wanted to control nature; Miles works with it." He turned slightly to face me, his hazel eyes warm in the morning light. "Did you sleep well? After our late conversation, I mean."

"I did," I admitted, surprised by the truth of it. "I feel more rested than I have in years, actually," I added, realizing how true that was. Despite waking early, my body felt lighter, as if some invisible weight had been lifted.

Julian smiled, the expression crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Your scent is different this morning. Calmer, more... settled."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks at his observation. "Is that good?"

"Very good," he assured me, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. "It means you feel safe here, at least on some level."

The concept of safety had always been abstract to me—something my parents claimed to provide through rules and restrictions. But this feeling, this quiet comfort of sitting beside Julian in the early morning light without performing or posturing... this felt like actual safety.

"I'm still figuring out what that means," I admitted. "Safety without control. Freedom to do and say what is on my mind.”

Julian set his coffee mug down beside him, his expression growing more serious. "It's a difficult concept when you've been taught that safety only comes through compliance. But real safety—the kind that allows you to grow and explore who you are—that requires trust rather than control."

A comfortable silence settled between us as I absorbed his words. The garden stretched before us, wild and intentional at once, and I found myself thinking about the parallel between Miles's approach to growing things and what these men seemed to be offering me.

---