Chapter 25

Millie

Is this my new normal? Is this how life is now? Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love hanging out with Tripp Atwood. In fact, I think I’m falling in love with him. The thought alone sends a thrill through me, a warm glow that’s been steadily growing over these past few weeks. But at the same time, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re stuck in a routine, like we’ve created this little bubble around us and never venture outside of it.

I mean, I adore our time together. There’s something intoxicating about the way we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other, the way he looks at me with that mischievous grin, the way we spend hours tangled up in each other in my bed. But I feel like all we do is hang out at my place, hidden away from the rest of the world. It’s like we’ve created this secret little world just for us, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s enough.

We’ve been secretly seeing each other for three weeks now. During the day, I’m running my shop, interacting with customers, and trying to keep my mind off how much I can’t wait to see him later. He goes to work, too, and then at night, without fail, he comes over, and we lose ourselves in each other. The sex is incredible—crazy, even, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It feels perfect, like we’ve found this rhythm that’s ours alone.

And yet, there’s this nagging feeling I can’t ignore, like something is missing, like there’s a part of us we’re not exploring. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s there, lurking in the background, making me wonder if this is all there is or if there’s more waiting for us beyond these four walls.

It’s Sunday, and Tripp had to leave early to have dinner with his family. Sunday dinner—a tradition that I know all too well. When I was dating Brock, I was always invited to these dinners. It was a given, something that tied us together in a more official way. But with Tripp, it’s different. He hasn’t invited me yet, and I don’t know if it’s because we’re keeping things under wraps or if it’s something else entirely.

Am I mad about it? I don’t even know, to be honest. Part of me wants to brush it off, to focus on the fact that we’re happy, that things between us feel right. But another part of me—one I’m not quite ready to admit to—wonders why he hasn’t asked me to be part of that part of his life. Why haven’t we stepped out of this little bubble we’ve created?

I just want to spend time with him, all of him, and not just in the confines of my apartment. I want to see what it’s like out there, in the real world, where we don’t have to hide, where we can be more than just a secret. I just wish I knew how to bring it up without shattering the perfection of what we have now.

My phone pings with a new message, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glance over at the screen and see Violet’s name, a small thrill of excitement bubbling up inside me.

Violet: Come downstairs and open the door.

A wide smile spreads across my face as I quickly text her back, letting her know I’m on my way. My shop is usually closed on Sundays, a day reserved for quiet moments and catching up on things I never seem to have time for during the week. But for Violet, I’m more than happy to make an exception.

I toss my phone onto the bed and hurry over to the mirror, smoothing down my hair with a few quick brushes. I dab a bit of lip balm on and swipe on a hint of mascara, just enough to feel refreshed. My reflection shows a hint of the glow Violet had commented on before, and I can’t help but grin at the memory. Maybe she’s right—maybe there’s something different about me now.

I throw on a cozy sweater, the soft knit hugging my skin as I pull it over my head, and slip into my favorite jeans. They’re slightly worn at the knees, but they’re comfortable, and I know Violet won’t judge me for choosing comfort over fashion. I grab my shop keys from the dresser and take one last look in the mirror before heading out.

As I make my way downstairs, the familiar creak of the wooden steps under my feet brings a sense of calm, a reminder of the routine I’ve built here. The scent of old books and the faint trace of coffee still linger in the air, even though the shop is closed. It’s my sanctuary, a place where everything feels just right.

When I reach the bottom, I take a deep breath and unlock the door, swinging it open with a warm smile. "Hey," I say, my voice full of affection as I greet Violet, who’s standing on the other side, looking as radiant as ever.

"Hey yourself," Violet replies with a grin, her eyes sparkling with that familiar, playful glint that always seems to put me at ease.

"What brings you by?" I ask, stepping aside to let her in. The autumn air slips in for a moment as she passes, a crisp reminder of the changing seasons.

"My spidey senses told me you might need me," she says, her voice laced with mischief as she raises an eyebrow. Then, with a flourish, she holds up a bottle of white wine. "And—this."

I can’t help but laugh as I reach out to grab the bottle from her, feeling the cool glass against my fingers. "You always know exactly what I need," I say with a grateful smile, shutting and locking the door behind us. The shop feels instantly warmer, more inviting, now that Violet’s here.

"It’s my superpower," she jokes, brushing a strand of her fiery red hair out of her face as she shrugs off her coat. "Plus, I figured it’s been a while since we had a proper catch-up."

"Way too long," I agree as we walk together toward the back of the shop, where my little reading nook awaits us. The cozy space is filled with overstuffed armchairs, soft blankets, and shelves lined with my favorite books. The soft glow of the string lights I’ve draped across the ceiling casts a warm, golden hue over everything, making it feel like a secret hideaway.

"So, how’s life?" she asks as we settle in, her tone light but with that underlying curiosity that tells me she’s genuinely interested in hearing every detail.

"Complicated," I admit, setting the bottle down on the small coffee table between us. "But in a good way, I think."

Violet gives me a knowing look as she grabs the corkscrew from the table and starts to open the wine. "Ah, that sounds like there’s a story behind it."

I nod, smiling as I think about Tripp. "There might be," I say, my voice teasingly vague as I reach for the glasses we keep in the cabinet nearby.

Violet pours the wine, and we both take a moment to savor the first sip, the crisp, fruity taste a perfect match for the relaxed, intimate atmosphere of the shop.

"So," she says, leaning back in her chair with a raised eyebrow, "...spill. I want to hear all about it."

I laugh, the sound echoing softly in the quiet shop. "Where do I even start?" I ask, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as I realize I’m about to open up about everything that’s been on my mind. But with Violet here, I know I’m in good hands.

"How about with this mysterious man who’s got you glowing?" she suggests, her tone playful but her eyes serious.

"Okay," I say, settling back into my chair, the familiar cushion embracing me as I begin to open up to Violet about Tripp—the good, the complicated, and everything in between. I don’t hold back, letting the words flow as I recount every moment, every touch, every lingering doubt. The cozy atmosphere of the shop feels like a safe haven, the soft light casting comforting shadows as I finally let out everything that’s been weighing on me.

Violet listens intently, her gaze never wavering as I pour out my heart. She’s always been the friend who listens without judgment, the one who somehow makes everything seem a little clearer just by being there. When I finally pause, taking a deep breath, she lifts her glass and takes a long, thoughtful sip of her wine.

"I see," she says slowly, her voice carrying that familiar tone of understanding. "So, you think he doesn’t value you?"

I shake my head slightly, the smooth surface of the wine glass cool against my fingertips as I twirl it absently. "No, I know he values me," I reply, my voice softer now, laced with uncertainty. "But there’s something else. Like he’s ashamed to tell anyone about us. Like maybe he’s happy with this whole thing being his dirty little secret."

Violet nods, her expression sympathetic as she leans forward, her eyes never leaving mine. "Is there a reason you think this?" she asks gently, sensing there’s more beneath the surface.

I lower my head slightly, studying the way the light refracts through the wine in my glass, a myriad of tiny prisms reflecting the uncertainty swirling in my mind. "Yeah," I admit, the word coming out in a quiet exhale.

She leans even closer, her presence radiating warmth and understanding. "Tell me," she prompts softly, her voice encouraging me to keep going.

I hesitate for a moment, but when our eyes meet, I see the genuine concern in her green eyes, and it gives me the courage to continue. "I used to date his older brother," I confess, the words heavy with the weight of my past. "And I think he’s scared Brock wouldn’t understand."

Violet’s eyes widen, a flash of surprise flickering across her face as she processes this new information. "Oh dear," she murmurs, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and curiosity. "What do you think?"

I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "Brock is happy," I say, more to convince myself than anything. "He’s dating someone new, and we didn’t end things on bad terms. We just realized we weren’t good together. We never even had sex." The last part slips out, an added detail that feels important somehow, a piece of the puzzle that might explain why I’m so conflicted.

Violet listens carefully, her expression thoughtful as she processes everything I’ve told her. After a moment, she tilts her head slightly, a small frown creasing her brow. "Hmm," she hums, considering her words carefully. "Maybe you should ask Tripp what his deal is."

The suggestion hangs in the air between us, simple yet profound, and I feel a slight shift within me. It’s a logical step, but the idea of confronting Tripp about it makes my heart race with anxiety. Still, Violet’s right—I can’t keep tiptoeing around this forever.

"Yeah," I nod slowly, feeling the weight of her advice sink in. "Maybe I should."