Derek’s grip on his sword tightened. The oiled and shining blade was now stained with the blood of monsters and men. The downtown street, once a busy urban center of commerce now a gory battlefield, a macabre scene of death and hope lost. Monstrous forms of goblins, orcs, and trolls lay strewn down the street, mixed with the bodies of the slain that failed to stand up to the might of the horde. Their bodies torn and mutilated, the results of a futile resistance that ended in the eternal silence of death.
Their valiant but foolish stand doomed from the start. Despite his warnings, they had chosen to fight, their defiance leading them only to this grim end. They were all fools, now dead fools. Their deaths only added to the countless others he had witnessed in recent weeks. The weight of their failure left him with a bitter taste of apathy and a deep-seated disappointment in the futility of human defiance. Ignorant fools. But who would listen to a man whose visage was akin to a demon?
He wished he had been surprised by his own apathy toward the dead lying in the streets, but he never really cared about people in the first place and after nearly so much violence of fighting monsters, the number of dead people he had witnessed lying in the streets counted in the thousands. He paid no more attention to the bodies than to gather the Collective-provided bracelets from the fallen.
As Derek walked through the sea of corpses, the squelch of blood-soaked asphalt beneath his boots echoed the gruesome law that now governed this world. The mingling of alien and human blood formed rivulets that meandered into the storm drains. His boots soaked with the smell of death, following him everywhere.
Upon finding a minotaur’s axe, he frowned as he lifted the heavy monstrosity. The number of human lives the weapon had ended surely counted in the hundreds. With a thought, it vanished into the void of his own storage bracelet. He couldn’t judge it too harshly. After all, his own blade had taken countless lives. Even though he had obtained it from an orc, it was his own hand that had ended those lives.
The remains of the city, once vibrant with life and culture, lay in ruins around him. Buildings that once housed a unique downtown, the mix of native crafts and modern clothing stores, now a wrecked ruin. The charred skeletons of buildings, shattered windows, and the remains of cars painted a picture of the apocalypse. Fires still burned in some places. The pervasive stench of smoke and metallic blood hung heavily in the air, causing his nose to curl. The devastation was immense and showcased the changes to the world.
In the distance, the mountains stood untouched, their snow-capped peaks a stark contrast to the devastation that lay at their base. Their only struggle was with the termination dust that signaled the end of autumn. They were a serene backdrop amongst the remnants of the Alaskan city. The city, once teeming with life, had been reduced to a mere shadow of itself, its population decimated. Yet, amidst this desolation, the sporadic sound of gunfire hinted at the resilience of those few who remained, clinging to survival in a world that had forsaken them.
Amidst his grim task, Derek’s attention was drawn to the dying pleas of a man, his voice barely a whisper.
“Ravager, save my daughter.” He wheezed.
Derek’s gaze flicked to the small little girl that lay dead next to the man, still holding his hand. Her innocence cruelly ripped away. Her pretty face permanently locked in terror, sharply contrasting with her floral dress now covered in her blood. Derek looked back at the dying man.
“I will.” Derek lied.
The man only smiled in appreciation as the life left his eyes. Derek frowned with the hints of sadness as he collected their bracelets. The sight of them reminded him of his wife and their unborn child, whose life hung balanced on a thread.
Standing, he scanned his surroundings, the ruins of a world he once despised, now wishing for it to return. Derek looked at the familiar buildings, reading the names of the establishments from their blood-splattered signs. The places he had visited before were now just memories. They used to be thriving societies, but now they were replaced by a world of blood, death, and unavoidable violence. His eyes fell onto a building. A building that held lots of memories where his traumas were once unfolded, like the others now a forgotten relic.
He closed his eyes, shutting out the blood and chaos. For a moment, the violence faded, replaced by the sharp clarity of memory. When he opened his eyes again, the battlefield was gone. Instead, he saw the life he’d had just over a week ago. It was a time that felt distant but still close enough to sting. The switch from carnage to this quiet, sterile office was jarring, a sharp reminder of all he’d lost. The normalcy of it all felt almost surreal, a faint echo clashing against the noise of the past week.
In the quiet, serene office, Derek faltered, a lifetime of unspoken pain welling up to meet the silence. He clenched his fists, the familiar urge to withdraw and barricade himself rising swiftly. But heard Marie’s gentle encouragement echoing in his mind. Her endless well of patience and love that weathered his storms, never faltering.
“I’ve always felt so… numb, like I’m separated from everyone by this invisible barrier.” Derek paused for a breath. “With Marie, it’s better, but still a struggle to truly connect. She’s so open with everyone and I just can’t seem to connect with anyone.” He stared down at his hands, calloused fingers knotted together. A lifetime of holding the world at arm’s length.
“You’ve been carrying this weight for a long time… What do you think has contributed to these feelings of disconnection?” Dr. Caldwell prompted gently.
Derek’s gut tensed, and he forced himself to relax with a sigh. “My childhood, I guess. My parents were toxic and narcissistic. I learned to take care of myself, to not need anyone.”
Dr. Caldwell nodded. “It sounds incredibly lonely.”
Derek blinked rapidly. No one had ever framed it that way before. Lonely. Such a simple word for the vast empty chasm inside him.
“I want to do better by Marie,” he said thickly. “She deserves that.”
Dr. Caldwell gave an encouraging smile. “It’s clear how much you care for her. We’ll take this one step at a time.”
As their time together dwindled, Dr. Caldwell’s eyes briefly met the clock, a quiet acknowledgment that their allotted hour was drawing to a close. She folded her hands, mirroring the contemplative stance Derek had maintained throughout their exchange.
“We’ve unpacked quite a bit today,” she observed, her voice a soft echo of the room’s tranquility. “Just sitting here and voicing these thoughts, that’s a form of bravery. For your homework.” She smiled with a hint of mirth. “Think about what you want to see in your life and what haunts you from your past,” she proposed, laying down a path for their future exchanges.
On his way home, he was lost in the thoughts of the conversation, replaying it over and over in his mind. He wasn’t ready to return home, not yet. It was early and Marie wasn’t out of bed. Derek turned into the coffee shop parking lot and went in. His thoughts were all over the place and hopefully the warm ambience of the coffee shop would drive away the cloud.
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The coffee shop was a cozy place, with walls decorated by local artists. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the indistinct sound of chatter and the clink of mugs. Customers, mostly early risers, stood in line waiting for their drinks. The barista moved through her motions with the practiced speed of an expert, topping off each cup with a swirl of foam, followed by a shot of espresso or a splash of steamed milk.
Derek joined the line, letting the relaxed atmosphere seep into his troubled mind. His eyes skimmed the art with a detachment that mirrored his inner world, the vibrant colors failing to penetrate. The warm air of the coffee shop was a reprieve from the constant rain that seemed to be the weather over the last week.
Therapy wasn’t the only thing he had on this to-do list this morning, and the coffee shop was a nice detour between errands. The aroma of roasted coffee beans was a decent trade-off for skipping his homemade brew.
The trip to the hardware store had been the same as it always was. Derek walked in; they asked him if he needed any help. He kept his smartass tongue to himself and shook his head. He picked up his construction materials and left.
With winter approaching, he needed to get everything finished before it started snowing. The sudden roar of the bean grinder jolted him from his reflection, reminding him that his past was the past, and only affected him if he let it.
Focusing on the present, he pushed the thoughts away as he watched the warm chatter of the other patrons excitedly talking and making their plans for the day. He felt his mood lighten as the barista’s pretty smile fell on him to take his order with a smile.
“What can I get for you?”
“Large black coffee, no room, please.”
Derek’s voice held much more warmth than he felt. It was difficult to feel the smile his face attempted to portray, but he hoped it looked sincere. After paying, she handed him the easiest cup of coffee she would make all morning. She thanked him with another smile, and he retreated toward the door, wondering if he should hang around for a little while or go.
Thinking of his ten-mile-long to-do list, he headed toward the door. Before Derek could reach the door, a familiar face walked in. He smiled a large friendly when their eyes met. There was a shadow of fatigue under his bright hazel eyes. They exuded a warmth that was as inviting as the coffee shop itself.
“Phil, good morning, you’re up early.”
“Uh, I know, didn’t sleep.” He groaned dramatically and gave Derek a quick hug of greeting.
“Up all night playing Smash?”
Phil’s face brightened at Derek’s guess. “Let me get a coffee and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Derek hesitated, weighing whether he should stay or tend to his tasks. But Phil’s expectant look tipped the scales. So, he sat aside his to-do list for time with a friend. Phil sat down with his coffee. It was with a tired sigh of relief, but the smile never left his face. Derek settled into the plush armchair, pushing aside his morning’s solitude.
“How have you been doing?” Phil asked, with genuine friendly interest.
Derek momentarily warred with himself about whether he should tell Phil but lost the opportunity.
“Yep, I figured,” Phil said with a sympathetic smile, and nodded. “Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here. Anyway, yeah, I got in a tournament last night with some people in Europe and we played all night.”
“Nerds.” Derek chuckled.
“Whether or not you want to admit it, you’re one of us too! Not that long ago that you were playing D&D with the rest of us.”
“Seems so long ago, now.”
“How do you live?” Phil prodded, good-naturedly. “I’m guessing you haven’t even seen so much as a movie in what a year?”
Derek shrugged with a half-smile. “I can’t remember the last movie I watched.”
“Ugh, how’s work?” Phil asked, rolling his eyes.
“Fine,” Derek said with a shrug. “It pays the bills.”
Phil glanced at Derek with a knowing look, the corners of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. Derek feigned a groan as Phil launched into a monologue.
“You ever notice how in Europe, life isn’t just a mad dash between work hours? They’ve got it figured out, Derek. Over there, people don’t just squeeze life into the weekend. They savor it daily, like a fine wine. Lunches are long, vacations are longer, and nobody’s heart stops if an email sits unanswered for a few hours.”
Derek found comfort in Phil’s monologuing, reminding him of the frequent summer hikes where he single-mindedly talked about whatever had been on his mind lately. He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. Derek fought down the urge to rush out the door as Phil moved onto the next topic that had attracted his interest lately.
“It’s not about being less ambitious, it’s about being more… human. They work to live, not live to work. Makes you wonder what we’re all rushing for here in the States, huh?”
With a shrug and a sip of his drink, Phil let the thought hang between them for a moment before starting a new topic. Derek nodded along and commented where needed to keep the conversation going but didn’t add anything. Phil enjoyed talking as if he could solve the world’s problems, Derek didn’t, so it worked out. As Phil’s insights into philosophy, politics, and life wound down, Derek felt the call of his to-do list. The rain seemed less oppressive as he left, the echo of Phil’s mirth a reminder that even in solitude, connections could still be found.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
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An aggressive shout snapped Derek back to reality. He paused, a cart full of groceries in hands, as an altercation unfolded. The tranquil ambience of the coffee shop was a distant memory, replaced by the discord of raised voices and the tension that hung in the air.
“It was an accident,” a meek voice attempted to placate the rising anger.
Derek’s first instinct was apathy. It wasn’t his fight. Normally, he would have only been apathetic to the shouting, it didn’t involve him. But with his luck, of course, the argument was happening right behind his truck.
A fair-sized crowd stood gathered around the one-sided argument with curiosity and intrigue. The store was unusually busy for a Saturday morning as cars moved in and out of the parking lot like the flight of the bumblebee. Derek closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he realized there wasn’t any avoiding the situation.
“How the hell did she get a driver’s license if she can’t even control a shopping cart?”
Derek felt his mood darken as he approached the crowd. Following the morning, he experienced a sense of relief as the dark cloud hanging over him seemed to fade away. However, to his dismay, it had returned, bringing along a wave of irritation that completely erased the lightness he had felt. The warmth he gained from the conversation at the coffee shop and being out and about in town worn away at the cloud, but now.
A burly man in a welding shirt was shouting while jabbing his finger into a skinny man’s chest who was standing protectively in front of his lady. The skinny man waved his hands in placating gestures to deescalate the situation. The lady behind him was barely holding her emotions at bay as her hands gripped each other and her lip quivered.
This was just what he needed this morning. He stopped and waited for a few seconds, but the situation didn’t resolve. The aggressive man wasn’t backing down. Derek didn’t have time for this nonsense. He felt something inside him shift. He didn’t want this problem, but something dark within him wanted to solve the problem with violence. Violence that might help him vent some of his frustration at the abrupt loss of the morning’s pleasantness. He straightened his posture as he drove the cart around an elderly couple to find the scene before him.
“Sir…”
“Shut up, bitch. Let your man do the talking.” The burly man interrupted.
That almost sent her to tears. It was plain to see that she was struggling to keep herself under control. Her husband wasn’t much better, barely contained fury filled his face, but helpless to do anything.
Derek groaned and pushed his cart forward, heading straight toward his truck that sat on the other side of the argument. The bystanders eyed him as he approached.
“Don’t talk to my wife like that.”
“You pussy whipped, bastard.” The disgust that covered his face was palpable.
Derek stopped his cart right outside of arm’s reach. He cleared his voice, then spoke up. “Excuse me. You’re standing in front of my truck.” To enunciate his point, the remote start activated on his truck, causing the engine to roar to life.
“You pencil dick, fucker. We’re in the middle of a conversation.” He said, turning to Derek.
He looked like a pouting toddler. His face turned red, and his nostrils flared.
“Then step out of the way and let me leave,” Derek suggested, moving his cart from between them. Then pointed off to the side. “You can have your conversation over there.”
“Or what, little man?”
Derek released the cart to step into the man’s personal space. The man physically inflated as a potential challenge appeared. His fists clenched, and his anger bubbled up.
Derek’s voice dropped to an icy growl. “Or you’ll find out that some problems aren’t worth the trouble they bring.”
Tension filled the air as Derek locked eyes with him, his aggression flooding his system, preparing him for a fight. The man and his wife stepped back several steps as Derek’s adrenaline responded to the situation. Derek involuntarily smiled, as now he wanted the fight. He wanted to vent his frustrations on him. All he needed was an excuse, and now he had it. He only needed the man to start the fight. Derek’s gaze never wavered as the man processed the words. Whatever the man saw in Derek’s face must have intimidated him, because he stepped back, relenting.
“This isn’t over.” He said.
“Yes, it is.” Derek growled, stepping forward, sensing weakness. “Leave, now.”
“Fuck you.” He said, stepping back again.
Derek forced all the tension out of him with a controlled breath. The crowd seemed to inhale. Their excitement and interest dissipated like smoke. Derek turned back to his cart, which was being held by someone at the edge of the crowd. He forced himself to take a moment to calm the violent adrenaline roaring through his system. His body was near shaking with anticipation, and he used that moment to calm himself. Apparently, the cart rolled because of the uneven parking lot. Derek retrieved it, thanking the man with a nod.
Derek turned back to find the husband and wife watching him. He ignored them while he moved back to his truck so that he could load his groceries.
“Thank you,” the husband said, looking Derek in the eye.
“Yes! Thank you! We didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t stop.”
Derek shrugged, closing his tailgate. “He was in my way. Have a good day.”
He climbed into his truck without another word, but he gave the man in the truck next to him a deadly look. Then he waited for the man and his wife to drive off before he left. He took a deep breath to compose himself before leaving the parking lot and heading home.
‘Why did I step in?’ he asked himself. Derek understood he could have left them alone and loaded the truck without interruption. There were other ways, but why did he step in to confront the man directly?
Was it his frustration with his own mental state that caused him to act that way? Was there something that told him to play the hero? Did he simply want to leave? Was his intention to provoke a fight? That hadn’t even been his problem. They were standing in his way, and he wanted to leave. He had nothing to gain from the situation. There was much more to lose.
The aggression that had been boiling up inside of him as the confrontation loomed was unsettlingly pleasant. It promised a release for the pent-up anger, a release that should have felt abhorrent. Yet, it didn’t. The allure of power, the seduction of asserting dominance—it was intoxicating. His readiness to resort to violence concerned him, but that wasn’t the heart of his unease. The lingering question was more disquieting:
“Am I searching for meaning in conflict because I can’t find it in peace?”
Derek shut the engine off after backing up to the garage door. Silence dominated everything, as the entire world seemed quiet and serene in that moment. He stilled his mind, allowing the serenity of his home, his sanctuary, to penetrate his mind and fill him with the stillness that his internal monologue needed. The frustration, anger, and grim mood lightened as his heart calmed as the peace dominated his internal world. It helped him return to his center and allow him to gain control over his emotions.
After unloading the truck, he went into the house for an early lunch. The house was dark, cold, and silent. Marie must still be asleep, and the closed bedroom door confirmed it. Despite the eventful morning, here was Marie, likely cocooned in the blankets, her day yet untouched by the world’s madness. He smiled faintly, the thought of her peaceful slumber offering a gentle counterpoint to his own restlessness.
He turned on the coffeepot while he made himself a sandwich from some leftover steak in the fridge. The house was still cold, the fireplace unlit, the heater turned down. The curtains were closed, making the house dark because of the clouds.
He sat quietly, eating while staring out the window. The grinding of the crooked bedroom door opening jarred Derek from his thoughts. He tensed instinctively. He forced himself to calm. The sound took him back to his childhood for an instant before Derek pushed the thoughts away. The carefully maintained bottle that housed the memories of his family and childhood threatened to crack. He steadied his breath, pushing back the memories that clamored for attention, focusing on the present, on her.
Marie stepped into the room, her arrival cutting through the chill like a gentle breath of spring. She blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the dim kitchen light, and they contained quiet complaints. Her hair was a soft mess, robe pulled tight around her, and her half-awake shuffle towards him brought out a soft smile as he watched. Just the sight of her seemed to smooth the rough edges of Derek’s morning, washing away the tension in a silent tide of familiarity and peace.
“Jeez, Derek, it’s cold in here.”
She turned the thermostat up several degrees as she passed it on the way to the kitchen. That simple act seemed to turn the lifeless house into a warm, comfortable space that felt like home.
“It’s not that bad.”
Marie’s eyes found his, and she offered a small, sleepy smile. It was one of the most beautiful looks on her face. That tired look, that said she wanted to be in bed, but her body required food, always comforted him. In the muted kitchen light, she shivered and complained more about the cold house.
After grabbing a banana and a cup of coffee, she sat next to him with a smile. In that moment, she looked through his composure to see the weary soul beneath. She smiled with understanding.
“How was your visit with Dr. Caldwell?” she asked softly, laying a hand on his forearm.
Derek shrugged without speaking, and although his face was blank, his eyes showed he was struggling with something inside. But her steady hand on his brought him a sense of stability, even as the storm raged on.
“I’m here,” she murmured, her voice a tender reassurance. “Always.”
Silence fell between them, laden with words left unsaid. Marie searched his face, love and sorrow mingling in her eyes. The rain continued its relentless cadence.
Derek kept his inner tempest locked away, stepping back from the gentle heat of Marie’s concern. It was an odd thing, feeling the warmth of another person. It wasn’t that Marie hadn’t been there; she had more than most. But there were times, too many times, when her presence had just not been enough.
“I should get to work,” he muttered, almost to himself, as he pushed back from the table.
Marie hesitated, her concern deepening as she watched him retreat into his shell. “Derek,” she began, her voice a blend of tenderness and resolve. “You can talk to me. I will not judge you. You’re a good man.”
“I know. It’s been hard,” he began. “On both of us. I just… I feel so lost sometimes. Like I’m adrift in the dark.”
He paused, struggling to put the maelstrom into words. Marie remained quiet, letting him find the words in his own time.
“After everything that happened, it’s like there’s this void inside me,” Derek continued, voice low. “An emptiness I can’t seem to fill. And I don’t know how to reach across it to you, no matter how much I want to.”
His jaw clenched, a mix of frustration, grief, and anger bubbling up inside him. Marie gave his hand a comforting squeeze.
Derek let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping wearily. “But I want to try,” he said finally, meeting her gaze. “If you’ll help me find the way.”
Marie’s smile was like the sun breaking through the storm. “Always,” she whispered.
Marie’s smile faded as she studied Derek’s face, seeing the shadows that still lingered in his eyes. Gently, she reached out and took his hand.
“I know this isn’t easy for you,” she commented softly. “Opening up, letting someone in, but that shows how strong you truly are.”
Derek stared down at their joined hands, jaw tight. “Doesn’t feel like strength most days,” he admitted. “More like I’m barely keeping it together.”
Marie gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You have always been a steady presence for me, always there for me, even if emotionally distant. I’ll be the same for you.”
Derek nodded, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. Outside, the rain continued its steady cadence, both melancholic and strangely soothing. The kitchen was dim as they sat side-by-side, the morning’s weight gradually lifting in the stillness of their shared space. Holding Marie’s hand, Derek felt the sharp edges of his solitude soften. It was a simple touch, but it anchored him.
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The following has been scrapped, read if you so wish.
Post-talk with Marie, Derek dove into work, finding rhythm in routine as he geared up for therapy. Winter prep became his outlet, turning restlessness into productivity. Lists and prep work gave him a grip on things, a needed balance against the unknown.
He stepped through the side door into the small room built by the previous owner, a space that served as a testament to his readiness for the long winter months. The previous owner had six kids, and the space held their seasonal sporting goods. Shelves lined the walls, filled with dry goods, and two freezers hummed in the corner, preserving the bounty of past hunts and harvests. He moved to the first freezer and opened it. Then lost himself in slowly counting and re-sorting the items within. They were disappointingly low on Alaska wildlife. He didn’t get a moose, and he didn’t go fishing this year, which left them to get meat from the local grocery store, which was fine.
The meticulous manner in his selection of supplies, what they needed, what they didn’t was a mindset that was carved from years maintaining a ‘prepper’ mindset. Derek chuckled to himself as he considered how much of this effort was actually needed, when there was always a grocery store right down the road. He gave the room a self-satisfied grin as he considered all the ways they might need this stock. The few years he spent as a prepper early in his career and after college had instilled certain behaviors. That was further reinforced as every time the lower 48 had an issue, like poor weather or economic issues, Alaskan grocery store’s stock of some supplies seemed to vanish without notice.
Derek was very detailed, unlike Marie, who liked to keep things simple. This difference led to playful jokes between them, but it also showed how differently they saw life. Marie liked to buy groceries every week, getting only what she needed for the next few meals. Derek didn’t like this approach. But Marie was good at planning other things, like family trips to other states.
Derek tallied up what they needed for the pantry and quickly checked over their winter gear and tools, noting a few items for replacement or repair. After securing the yard equipment and covering the garden beds, he confirmed that the firewood was stacked and the garage orderly. With the vehicles also ready for winter, he was satisfied that their preparations were nearly complete.
Derek was cleaning and oiling tools when the door opened, announcing Marie. The atmosphere shifted with her arrival, her presence washing over the space like a ray of sunlight. Where Derek was all sharp edges and quiet intensity, Marie brought a sense of ease. She paused in the doorway, observing her husband’s hunched form amidst the shelves and supplies. A small smile touched her lips.
“Hey you,” she said, her voice warm and teasing. “Making your lists again?”
Derek glanced up, the barest hint of a grin flickering across his face at the sight of her. “Just doing inventory,” he replied.
Marie nodded, moving further into the room with graceful steps.
“Hey, have you checked to see what food we need stored in the pantry?” Derek asked.
Looking at a list of groceries and supplies, he kept on his phone.
“Yeah, there is a list on my phone.”
“Did you put it in the shared notes?”
“Nooo,” she sighed dramatically, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “I’ll do that now.”
Derek sighed and rolled his eyes with a smile. “Thanks, love.”
“Uh-huh. Did you get everything else finished?”
“Yeah, we need to do a bit of shopping and then we will be ready for winter.”
With a playful tilt of her head, Marie shifted the topic to their winter comforts. “Did you get plenty of hot chocolate and marshmallows so that we can sit in front of the fireplace and snuggle?” She grinned.
“Yes, dear.” Derek nodded, glancing down at the clipboard. “We’re in decent shape for winter,” he nodded.
Derek moved to the workbench, picking up a screwdriver to inspect the tools laid out. Methodically, he checked each one - wrenches, pliers, saws - ensuring all were in good working order. A few needed oiling and a couple drop of oil solve that. He sharpened the knives in the house, then cleaned and returned them to their places.
While Derek tended to the tools prepping them for unexpected fixes, Marie was sorting through seeds, prepping for the spring planting. She sifted through the gardening box, neatly arranging seed packets - veggies, herbs, blooms - on the table. Humming to herself, she occasionally stopped to scribble greenhouse plans on her notepad.
“You know, you wouldn’t have to do this every year if you didn’t buy in bulk.” She teased.
Marie’s light-hearted jab brought a moment of introspection to Derek, where he recognized the balance she brought to his life. Derek grunted, giving her a dramatic look. He felt a swell of gratitude for this woman who balanced him so completely. She was his shelter from the storm. With her, the future didn’t seem so bleak.
Marie noticed Derek watching her and smiled warmly at him. He returned the smile, then glanced down, suddenly self-conscious. Clearing his throat, he returned the tools to their place in the toolbox and stood.
“I think that’s enough for today,” he said. “Let’s pick this up tomorrow.”
Marie nodded, placing the seed packets into their box. As Derek clicked off the lights in the storage room. With the day’s tasks winding down, they both appreciated the quiet assurance that they were ready for whatever the winter might bring.