Chapter 5: Peach Cobbler and Cherry Blossoms

Derek’s first day home from work, I waited by the door with a lantern. In his green county clerk’s suit, he looked solid and proud, like a Georgia oak. He handed me the bakery box, the sweet smell of cinnamon and peaches curling up into the kitchen, sticky syrup already leaking through the cardboard.

"Look what I brought you!"

The cobbler was still warm, even though he’d trekked all the way from downtown. It wasn’t fancy like the mansion desserts, but I loved it. I loved that he remembered.

He launched into stories about his day—quirky coworkers, the mayor’s bad jokes, odd collections on desks. I pretended not to know more about the mansion than he did, just to hear him talk.

He leaned in, smiling. "You should see the cherry trees out back—they’re just starting to pop. I know you love those. Maybe we can go check them out this weekend. There’s a mansion cat too, super proud. Today it actually acted cute for me!"

He kept rambling, trying to make me laugh. But his words faded into the background as old memories crowded in—threats, secrets, cherry blossoms blurring with pain. My hands shook, but I forced a smile.

"Natalie, what’s wrong?"

He knelt beside me, worry written all over his face. I wanted to answer, but old habits die hard.

"You like cherry blossoms? Someday, I’ll plant them all over your garden."

He squeezed my hands, desperate to help. I nodded, swallowing hard.

"That mansion cat is dirty—Nat, don’t pet it!"

He tried to tease, but I just smiled faintly.

"Fine, if you beg, I’ll help you hide that little cat!"

He spun out silly scenarios, trying to pull me back to the present. My smile wobbled, but I appreciated it.

"Nat, when I’m in charge, I will…"

He trailed off, lost in thought. I stared at him, haunted by old words—Caleb’s cold promise: "I’ll take care of it."

A chill slid down my spine. I clutched the bakery box tighter. Old wounds reopened.

I forced a stiff smile. "It’s nothing, just tired."

Derek watched me, then pulled me into a hug. He smelled like aftershave and library books—solid, grounding.

"Natalie, you’re not happy. Since we came here, you haven’t smiled much. Give me some time—I’ll ask the mayor if I can resign and we’ll move somewhere else. If you don’t like it here, we’ll go."

His words gave me a bit of strength. I hugged him back, shaky but real.

"Derek, Derek!"