30. Henry

Iwake up with the sun peeking through my blinds, with a warmth in my chest that has lingered there since I took care of Zara's head the other day. She's been on my mind more than I care to admit lately. It's like every little thing she does just makes me want to know her better. I want to get her a gift. Something special, to show her how wonderful I think she is and how great she is with Mia and also with Ben.

Tossing the sheets aside, I get up and ready, smiling as I think about how she might react. I mean, what do you even get someone who's as unique as Zara? Flowers seem a bit cliché, chocolates too impersonal. No, it needs to be something that says, ‘I've been paying attention to you and all that you do'.

I head out before the shops open; it's just a short, brisk walk into the village. The town is waking up when I arrive, shops lifting their shutters, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the bakery.

The first shop I duck into smells of lavender and beeswax. It's a boutique full of handmade bits and bobs. My stomach does weird flips at the lavender scent. My alpha responds to it, knowing the same scent drifts over Zara's skin like a gentle summer breeze.

What would she like?

There's this buzz in my veins as I touch a knitted hat, then a set of colourful coasters. I imagine her using them, a cup of tea in hand, that relaxed smile on her face. But no, it's still not quite right. It has to be something that she wouldn't expect but will instantly love. A gift that'll make her eyes light up, that'll maybe get me one of those smiles where it lingers just a moment longer than necessary.

Not finding the perfect item, I step back out, squinting as the morning light reflects off the windows. I wander further down the street, hands in my pockets, taking my time. There's no rush, not when it comes to Zara. I'll know the perfect gift when I see it, and I'm determined to find it today. It's one of the perks of making your own hours; you get to go on impromptu shopping trips for omegas you barely know, but, in your heart, feels like you've known her forever.

I push open the door to a small, cosy shop that looks like it's been lifted straight from a storybook, all warm light and inviting displays. My eyes land on a shelf, soft blankets piled high, their colours whispering of comfort and home. This is it, I think as I walk over and run my fingers through one, feeling the plush texture.

"Looking for something in particular?" The shop assistant's voice is friendly, not too pushy.

"Something special," I reply, and my mind paints a picture of Zara curled up on her couch at Ben's, a book in her lap, a cup of tea close by. A blanket, a really nice one, could be part of that. Something she'd wrap around herself and feel cared for and, dare I hope, nest in when the time comes.

I pick up a blanket that's the colour of dusk, soft blues and gentle greys melding together. It's large enough to envelop her completely, and the fabric feels like a cloud might if you could touch one. That's what I want for Zara – to give her a slice of a dream.

"Would you like to get that one?" The assistant appears at my elbow again, her own arms cradling a stack of neatly folded textiles.

"Yeah, this one." My voice is steady, but inside, there's a whole circus going on.

As I bundle up the blanket, a simple brown paper package tied with string, it feels like I'm wrapping a piece of my heart along with it. I pay and leave the shop, hands tight around the package. It's just a gift, but somehow, it's also a confession, a tangible bit of care that I'm not sure I'm ready to admit out loud.

Walking back toward home, the light weight of the blanket is reassuring against my side, but my chest tightens with every step. What if she doesn't see it as just a kind gesture? What if she reads into it, sees the things I'm only just admitting to myself? Like how her laughter makes my day brighter, or the way it nearly broke me to leave her the other day?

I need to calm down, take a breath. It's just a blanket. But it's special because it's for Zara, and she's special because she's Zara.

I'm nearly home now, and the nerves are bubbling up like a fountain. I remind myself it's okay to feel this way, to be unsure because feelings like these aren't meant to be clear-cut. They're messy, beautiful, and terrifying all at once.

As I walk up the driveway to where my car is parked, I pull out my keys and decide to drop this off now, or I may never do it. Liam and Ben will be at work by now, so it'll be just Zara and me.

Driving the short distance to Ben's, my palms sweating and my heart pumping wildly, I pull into the driveway and stop for a second, taking stock of this situation. Have I been hasty? Is this inappropriate? Blinking, I look down at the package on the passenger seat and inhale deeply.

Slowly exhaling, I snatch it up and climb out of the car.

Knocking in case the doorbell wakes Mia, I wait.

My hand is a little shaky, but I manage to keep a smile on my face when Zara opens the door. She looks surprised to see me there, but it's a happy surprise, her eyes lighting up and casting all sorts of warmth my way.

"Hey, Henry," she greets me, leaning against the doorframe. "What brings you here?" Her voice has a lilt that suggests she's genuinely pleased to see me.

I hold out the package towards her. "I saw this and thought of you," I say, trying not to stumble over the words. My heart thumps a mad rhythm in my chest as I add, "I hope you like it."

Her eyes drop to the brown paper package, then back to mine. She reaches out, taking it gently and cradling it as if it's something precious. That alone is enough to uncoil some of the tension in my chest.

"For me?"

I nod like an idiot.

"Come in." She steps back to let me pass and then closes the door. She pads into the lounge, and I follow her, trailing in the wake of her luscious scent.

Zara sits and carefully unties the string and unfolds the paper. When she sees the blanket, her breath catches softly, and that smile I hoped for spreads across her face—a sunrise of joy that hits me square in the chest. It's better than I imagined.

"It's beautiful," she whispers, running her fingers over the fabric. "Henry... this is too much."

I shove my hands into my pockets, suddenly unsure what to do with them. "It's just a blanket," I say, even though we both know it's more than that.

She unfolds it, running her hands over the fabric. "Thank you. This is so thoughtful." She stands up, and I brace myself, unsure of what's coming.

Then she hugs me, quick and tight, and something in me unclenches. She gets it. She gets that this isn't just any old blanket but a piece of me given to her in soft woven threads.

"It's nothing," I manage to get out, though we both know it's everything but nothing.

"Nothing?" She laughs, and it's music to my ears. "This is one of the nicest things anyone's done for me."

I try to play it cool, shrugging casually like it was some random find. "Well, I'm glad you like it. It seemed perfect for you."

Zara's eyes meet mine, and there's a moment where everything seems to still, where the only thing I'm aware of is her gaze locked on mine, heavy with something unspoken. "I'll cherish it," she says softly.

The intensity of the moment makes me want to look away, but I can't; it's like she's seeing right through me. Then she breaks the spell with a smile and a playful nudge of her elbow into my ribs. "You're going to make someone a very good mate one day, Henry."

The words are teasing, but they light a fire in my belly that I've been trying hard to ignore. Zara walks over to the couch, draping the blanket across the back and smoothing it down with pride. She pats it fondly before turning back toward me.

"So, what's been going on with you besides blanket shopping?" she asks with genuine interest as we both sit down on the couch.

"Not much," I say. "Just thinking about making some changes." Staring into her forest green eyes, I know that the decision I had already made but was waiting to get everything properly into place is about to be moved forward. As much as I want to tell myself this is for Ben's benefit and he could do with the financial ease, I'm kidding myself. I feel left out with Liam here getting cosy with Zara, and I want to be a part of that as well. I want to explore this natural attraction I have to her and see if it's real or just wishful thinking and my sense of wanting to settle down.

"What kind of changes?" she asks, but then Mia cries through the baby monitor, drawing her to her feet. "Sorry, duty calls."

"Of course," I murmur and watch her go. "I'll see you later."

I pull out my phone and text a message to the estate agent I know, enquiring about listing my place. It's a solid house with good bones and great views; it'll rent out in no time, and the extra cash here will ease things for Ben even more before he finds himself in a mountain of debt with no way out.

But as much as this is about helping a mate, it's also selfish. I want to be near Zara, see her more often, and learn the little things that make her laugh, or the quiet moments when she thinks no one's watching. I want to be part of her world, woven into the fabric of her days.

The agent replies almost immediately, enthusiastic about the prospect. This is the first step towards something new, something that feels a lot like hope for the future. My future.