Page 170 of Wisteria and Cloves

Miles looked up from where he was stirring something on the stove, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just refreshing? That's all we get?"

I shot a look at Nicolaus, who was watching me with barely concealed satisfaction. "It was... enlightening," I amended, taking another sip of wine to hide my burning cheeks. "Nicolaus is an excellent teacher."

"I'm sure he is," Christopher said, his tone rich with implication as he checked the bread. "And the violin lesson? How did that go?"

Grateful for the change of subject, I brightened immediately. "It was incredible. Elena is amazing—she made me feel like Iwasn't completely hopeless despite the fact that I sounded like a dying cat for most of the lesson."

Miles laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Everyone sounds like a dying cat when they first start.”

"The important thing is that you enjoyed it," Nicolaus said, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "Elena said you have natural intuition for the instrument."

"She was being kind," I laughed, though the compliment warmed me. "But I loved it. I've already been practicing the finger positions she showed me." I demonstrated with my left hand, my fingers curving in the air as if holding the invisible neck of a violin.

"When's your next lesson?" Miles asked, coming around the counter to refill my wine glass.

"Next week," I replied, excitement bubbling up at the thought. "She said we'd start on actual melodies then, once my fingers get used to the positioning."

"We should clean up the music room upstairs," Christopher suggested, stirring the pot on the stove. "Give you a proper space to practice."

I blinked in surprise, before a smile made it’s way to my face. “Really?”

"Of course," Miles said, his voice warm with affection. "It's about time that room got some use again. It doesn’t get regular use. I use it…so does Julian but it isn’t that often with how busy our schedules can get.”

"I'd like that," I said softly, the idea of having a dedicated space for something that was just mine—just for pleasure—still felt surreal. "I'll try not to torture you all too much with my practicing."

"The sound of you learning something you love could never be torture," Miles said, his voice carrying such sincerity that my chest tightened with emotion.

Nicolaus's hand found mine under the counter, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture that felt both protective and proud. "Tell them about Lydia," he prompted gently.

"She was wonderful," I said, my voice softening at the memory of our conversation. "It was... I've never met another Omega who chose her own path before. Someone who understands what it's like to leave everything behind."

Christopher turned from the stove, his expression curious but patient as he waited for me to continue.

"We talked about family expectations, about the courage it takes to walk away from everything you're supposed to want," I continued, swirling the wine in my glass as I gathered my thoughts. "She had a bag packed for months after she moved in with her pack—just in case she needed to run again."

Miles paused in his stirring, his expression thoughtful. "That makes sense. When you've spent your whole life being told your choices don't matter, it's hard to believe someone won't take that freedom away."

"Exactly," I said, grateful for his understanding. "But hearing how she worked through it, how her pack supported her... it made me realize I'm not as alone in this as I thought."

"You're not alone at all," Christopher said firmly, turning to face me fully. "You have us, and we're not going anywhere."

The simple declaration made my throat tight with emotion. I set down my wine glass, overwhelmed by the certainty in his voice and the matching expressions on Miles and Nicolaus' faces.

"I'm still learning to believe that," I admitted quietly. "But conversations like the one with Lydia help. She said something that really stuck with me—that sometimes the bravest thing we can do is let someone else be brave for us."

Miles moved closer, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder with gentle warmth. "What did she mean by that?"

"That I don't have to face everything alone anymore. That it's okay to lean on you when I'm scared or uncertain." I looked between the three of them, seeing nothing but acceptance in their expressions. "It's harder than it sounds, letting go of that need to be completely self-sufficient."

"You've had to be," Nicolaus said, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on my knuckles. "But you don't have to anymore. We want to share those burdens with you."

"I know," I said softly, then paused, considering my words. "Actually, I think I'm starting to really know that. Not just understand it intellectually, but feel it."

Christopher smiled, the expression transforming his face with warmth. "That's progress."

"Speaking of progress," Miles said, moving back to the stove to check on dinner, "how are you feeling about your family situation? Has meeting Lydia changed your perspective at all?"

I considered the question, taking another sip of wine as I organized my thoughts. "It's given me hope that even if they do find me, I can stand firm. She said her parents eventually stopped trying once they realized she wasn't going to break." I paused, my fingers tightening slightly around Nicolaus's hand. "But I'm not sure it would be that simple with my mother. She's... persistent in ways most people aren't."

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