FEARLESS

The sounds that came alive from Lola after her first spoonful of the sweet, creamy goodness could've rivaled that scene in When Harry Met Sally. Absolute enjoyment of the frozen treat was easily visible on her expression, even her eyes fell closed. One would think she hadn't just been here days ago enjoying a completely different flavor Lola claimed to be her favorite.

It was her first time back at Sugar Rush since landing back in town and as she sat in a booth with a cone of her favourite ice cream in hand, it was a little bit like she had been transported back in time. But then again, that seemed to happen everywhere she was in town lately. At the sounds from the woman at the table next to her, Addie could only press her lips together to try and stop herself from laughing, only letting out a chuckle when the woman addressed her. "Choc brownie whip. It's got like marshmallow in it as well. It's always been my favourite." Even though the owner's granddaughter had taken over the store since Addie was last there, she was just grateful she'd kept her favourite flavour. "What did you get? Because apparently it's real good."

       the  bitterness  still  harbored  in  her  heart  a  year  post  divorce  wasn't  for  longing,  she  didn't  want  him  back.  broken  trust  and  betrayal  was  a  difficult  thing  to  make  peace  with,  and  whenever  kenna  saw  him  about  town  spite  seemed  to  seep  into  her  chest  with  the  urge  to  kick  him  in  the  teeth  as  a  bit  of  payback  for  the  pain  he'd  caused.  the  ripple  effect  of  his  actions  harmed  more  than  just  her,  their  son  had  paid  a  price,  too.  now,  for  kenna,  trust  was  even  more  challenging  to  come  by.  startled  by  a  voice  from  behind  her  and  pulled  from  vindictive  reverie,  kenna  turned  slightly  and  took  a  breath  as  she  changed  gears  realizing  she  was  a  stone  in  the  river  on  the  sidewalk.  “sorry,  i  guess  i'm  in  the  way,  huh?”  that  signature  texas  twang  was  faint  some  three  decades  later  yet  still  present  as  kenna  spoke. 

As she tucked the loaf into her shopping tote bag and ticked it off of her list, her eyes glanced over at the woman standing still, a few people moving to walk around her. "Excuse me, are you alright?" Tucking her list back into her bag, Adeline smiled as the woman turned around. "You're fine, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, not many stop in the middle of the sidewalk unless it's to talk to Shiela next door about the arguments from across the road." Not that that was how she'd spent her morning, of course. "You good?"

“That cat was an accomplice,” he says, eyes glinting with dry amusement. “I’ll take it up with him if I ever see him again. Though I imagine he’s probably running a black-market snack ring right about now.”

He watches her step closer, and his shoulders relax a fraction—an almost imperceptible shift to anyone who doesn’t know how tightly Cem tends to hold himself. But Addie would notice. She always noticed.

At her teasing question, he cocks his head, mouth curving just slightly. “If I said I wasn’t looking, I’d be lying. Not… actively, maybe. But I never stopped wondering where you landed.” He shrugs once. “Didn’t think the answer would be Briar Ridge though.” Not after the reasons she left it.

Her words hit something old and familiar in him though. Not painful exactly—just undisturbed until now. He looks toward the window for a beat, as if he might see that version of her reflected in the glass: the wild, free one who vanished like a whisper right after pulling him out of something that could’ve ended much worse. In a lot of ways, she saved his life. Therefore he owed her, big time.

“I should’ve known,” he murmurs, glancing back at her. “The one person who doesn’t owe me a damn thing... turns out to be the one who circles back eventually.”

Then when asks the question—the one with no way to answer without slipping. And slip, he does—Cem huffs out a real laugh this time, low and warm, and steps forward toward her.

“You’ll get your hug, Addie. Even if it breaks my carefully cultivated reputation as a grumpy, emotionally distant recluse.” He pulls her into a firm but careful hug just then, like someone trying not to hold on too tightly to something they’re afraid might vanish again. And for just a moment, the usual weight he carries—the grief, the past, the cases, the ghosts—feels lighter. Not gone, but just lighter.

After a second, he leans back, one arm still loosely draped around her shoulders, as he smirks. “Insanely happy is a strong word. Let’s go with ‘unexpectedly glad and already suspicious about what you’re not telling me.’” His tone is teasing, but there’s some truth in it too—because Cem is never just casual about anyone, especially those who once meant something. And, still mean something.

He lets her go, finally, nodding toward the other chair in the room. “So. Are you just here to check in and see if I still brood over case files like a noir cliché, or is this one of those visits where you smile for a minute, and then drop a bomb?” He pauses. “Hypothetically, of course.”

"Neither did I, honestly. When I came back to the US, I still wasn't ready to be in this place again." Except a fleeting visit to see her grandparents. "But after I got my teaching qualifications, nothing else felt right. I never wanted the big city life, I just want a cute house, in a cute town, doing the job I love. It was time to come home, you know?"

As soon as he pulled her forward, Addie's arms looped around his neck, giving him a tight hug now that she finally could again. "Oh my god, you're huge." She was on tiptoes as she hugged him and as they finally broke apart, she couldn't help but laugh. "Oh please, we both know this is the best day of your life." Tilting her head a little towards her shoulder, Addie looked at him with an inquisitive look. "What am I hiding? You know me, Cem, I'm an open book. I'd pretty much told you my life story the first time we met."

Moving to sit on the edge of one of the desks, Addie laughed again. "I came here today to say 'hi' and to see how you were. But I'm sorry to report that there's no bomb, no secret, just a friend happy to see a friend now they live in the same town." There was one question she wanted to ask him though and as she looked at him again, she tried to properly look at him. "How are you doing? You doing okay?"

Then he glances down at her, one brow arched, lips quirking into something that’s not quite a smile but carries just as much meaning.

"AddieBee," he says, his voice lower now, not teasing, "I’ve been breakin’ that particular code since the day Shane let you walk away."

He doesn’t stop walking, but his arm comes up and settles across her shoulders without hesitation, pulling her in a little tighter as they stroll. There’s no grand gesture, no dramatics—just quiet, unshakable honesty.

"Truth is," he continues, eyes fixed ahead, watching the golden light catch on the fence line and the dust kicked up by their steps, "We're friends, you and I. I wouldn't consider that a crime. Besides, our bro code doesn't come with fine print for situations like this. So, I've got no choice but to wing it. And I'm sure, he wouldn't be too upset. Might even be grateful, I've looked after you all these years."

He glances back at her then, more direct this time, his expression soft but unflinching. “I remember what you were like before all that stuff happened. And after. I remember the way you lit up a room without even tryin’, and how you stopped doin’ that after you left. And I know I ain't got a leg to stand on when it comes to who you were to him—but I know who you were to me. Who you are to me. And you're special.”

There’s something vulnerable in his voice, like he’s balancing on the edge of saying too much. But he pushes forward anyway, the way he always does when something matters. "So no," he says finally, shrugging with a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes yet, "I’m not worried about some unspoken guy rule Shane and I probably forgot we made up years ago when we bled on the same knife and decided that made us brothers. I’m more worried about makin’ sure the folks who stuck around get the chance to remind you, you still belong here. And that you never stopped matterin’ to some of us. Especially, me.”

They reach the edge of the driveway now, the Parker home just visible through the trees. He stops there, turning slightly to face her again, the last of the sun catching in his hair and throwing long shadows behind them.

"And hey," he adds, lighter now, a crooked grin tugging back into place. He nudges her side gently, that warmth back in his eyes, familiar and a little mischievous. “… if bein’ seen with you is against the rules, well…” He tips his head, thoughtful. “Guess I’ve never been real good at followin’ ‘em anyway.”

Glancing up at him as they walked towards town, Addie felt her throat get a little thick with some sort of emotion. "You're special to me too, Trav, but I don't want to get in the way or make anything awkward for you with Shane, so just know that I want you to put that first. Always." She was older now and as much as being back on the ranch had been strange and how she know the inevitable meeting with Shane would hurt, she wasn't the heartbroken eighteen year old anymore. Even if some of that girl still lingered around.

"True, not sure there was a rule you haven't broken, right?" They were so different in that regard. Adeline had always been a good girl growing up, but once she had gotten closer to Shane and to Travis, she had learnt what it was like to let her hair down. Even if just a little.

"You might have to show me around town a bit though now, a hell of a lot has changed since I left. It's not like we can hang out on the ranch anymore." It had been a second home to Addie back when they were kids. "Are we going to have to be adults and find a bar or something to hang out? Oh my god, do we get to find somewhere where we can drink legally? This is a whole new ball game now, huh?"

If he took the out she had so graciously offered him, he knew he'd regret it later. Shane wasn't the type to put off uncomfortable moments, he was more a rip the bandaid off and get it done type of guy. So finally, after taking a second or two to try and mentally prepare himself for this conversation, he pulled out the seat at her table. "You know what? I think I'll take you up on that offer. Thanks."

Making himself comfortable, he reached out for the offered tea, bringing the cup to his lips if only to have something to do, partly for something to do, partly for a small buffer from the fact that she looked even prettier up close. Pretty didn’t quite cut it anymore—what Addie had now was something that shimmered from the inside out and Shane felt like he almost needed metaphorical sunglasses to take it all in.

When she spoke again, he nearly choked on his tea. Leave it to Addie to bring up the past. Swallowing, he cleared his throat before finally bringing his gaze up to meet hers. "It feels like multiple lifetimes, if I'm being honest," he admitted sheepishly. "How've you been, Addie?"

As he sat down, she almost wished he'd taken the out but she knew they'd have to do this eventually. They were too linked and there was no way they'd be able to live in the same small town and never run into each other. Looking at him now he was next to her, Addie was struck by the changes in him. He had been an extremely handsome boy when they'd been together, but now it was almost unfair. Age had been kinder to Shane Parker than it had a lot of people. But more than that, there was something in his eyes that she didn't recognise and wanted to know.

"Sounds about right." Blowing out a breath, Addie simply shrugged her shoulders as she looked down to her cup of tea. "Kind of hard to answer that given the two decades, but overall I'd say I'm good." The first couple of years hadn't been great, there were times where her family weren't really speaking to her, but at least she was here now. "I guess I'm a decent version of myself right now." Sipping her tea, Addie glanced to the window, not entirely sure how much, if any, the next sentence would hurt. "What about you? I heard you're a dad now, right?" There was a little sting as she looked back at him. "My grandmother told me, I know it's a belated congratulations."

"I told you, leaving those out here is tacky!" Vanna lectured, pointing at the vegetable crates her younger brother had left in front of the restaurant. He sucked his teeth in protest, arguing that the crates made the restaurant look cool. They had been going back and forth for weeks about the store's appearance, ever since their gung gung had gotten into a conflict with the owner of their local plant store. He had suddenly taken back the giant palms that had greeted customers at the entrance, leaving the front of Vim looking bare and uninviting—at least to the Huángs and a few regulars, it felt that way.

Once or twice, a regular had mentioned the lack of plants outside the restaurant. Their gung gung had fought hard to keep the plants that adorned the interior of the restaurant, but he was stubborn, and Vanna and her younger brother weren't expecting to see those palms anytime soon. "Ah, mou so wai," she said, waving her hand to usher him back inside. "That's Mom's problem."

As they re-enter, Vanna stops in her tracks when she sees Adeline face to face. She beams with joy since she hasn’t seen her in a while and immediately pulls her in for a hug, while her younger brother wanders off to assist a patron waiting at the counter.

“Addie!” she exclaims, noticing the bag in Adeline’s hand. “Hey, did you get takeout? Wait, let me get you something for the road!” She encourages Adeline to stay, grabbing her hands as she turns away. “You should have told me you were coming! I think we have some scallion pancakes lying around.”

It was only a few seconds after noticing Vanna that they were locked in a hug and even though it had been eighteen years (ish) since they'd seen each other, it really felt like no time at all. "It's so good to see you, V." Pulling back from the hug, Adeline nodded and gestured towards her bag. "My second time this week because decorating my new house is deleting the cooking skills from my brain." Placing the bag down, Addie couldn't help but smile as Vanna grabbed her hands. "Oh, you don't have to do that! I'm pretty sure there's enough food in this bag to feed about five people anyway." She'd always had issues choosing food and instead opted for ordering it all for a mixture.

"But if you have five minutes, I wouldn't turn down sitting down with you and catching up quickly. But if you're busy here, we can make a coffee date or something."

“Well damn,” he says, stepping back just slightly to give her a once-over again, this time with more reverence than teasing. “AddieBee Liang, local schoolteacher and full-time townie again. Never thought I’d see the day.”

He gestures toward the old Silver Creek barn behind him with a mock flourish. “Look at us—livin’ out the small-town clichés like we’re on some damn Hallmark special. You, teachin’ history in the same halls we used to get detention in, and me, still patchin’ up fences and talkin’ to cows like they’re coworkers.” Which, they very well might be.

He chuckles at that, a low, genuine sound, before letting the levity settle into something quieter. Something closer to the weight of what her being here really means. “But hey,” he adds, voice dipping slightly, more serious now, “I’m real glad you’re back, Addie. I mean that. And whether or not, you hear it from anyone else” —meaning the elephant in the room— "I think I can speak for more than just me when I say that sentiment stretches far and wide."

His gaze lingers, steady and open, like he’s not just talking about her being back in town—but back in his orbit. Back in a way that feels like it matters more than either of them might’ve expected.

“History teacher though, huh?” He nods, a teasing glint returning to his eyes. “Guess that tracks. You always were the smart one. Guess we’re lucky Sadie’s got someone decent to teach her when she finally gets to you. She’s not quite there yet, but it'll sneak up on me in no time. Right now, she says elementary school is exhausting, which is rich comin’ from someone who’s never worked a day in her life, even doin' basic chores.”

There’s something proud in his voice when he talks about Sadie. Soft. Protective. The same way he’s always talked about the people he loves. When he looks back at Addie, his smile turns crooked again. “And hey, don’t go talkin’ down all those travel years like they were wasted. World needed to see you a little. You were always too big for this town to hold you when we were younger. Hell, maybe you still are.”

He pauses just for a beat, letting the wind do some of the talking while he gauges her expression, the way the light catches her hair and the faint laugh lines around her eyes.

“But I gotta admit,” he adds, quieter now, more vulnerable, “feels kinda nice that the world’s seen you… and you still found your way back to us.”

His voice catches for half a second—just long enough for it to mean something—before he quickly clears his throat and nudges her shoulder playfully. “So this cottage of yours—does it have a porch swing, or are you waitin’ for me to come install one so you can properly sip your tea and judge the neighborhood?”

He shoots her a wink, then tips his head toward the driveway behind him. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Unless, of course, you're worried word might get out you were caught talkin’ to the town dinosaur. Can’t have your new students thinkin’ you hang around with the fossils. Won't earn you any cool points, just make you more of a nerd.”

Shaking her head, Addie smiled as she thought back to her years travelling the world. "Oh never, it was the best thing I've ever done. It's a miracle I ever shut up about it, honestly. I wouldn't be here if I hadn't gone away, it gave me the confidence to really take hold of my life, you know?" So much of her life had been dictated to her or decided for her and the second she booked her first flight, she had taken back control. "I even learned to surf, after I broke my nose once."

As he moved closer to her, Addie stepped over and wrapped her arm around his waist, giving him a quick squeeze. She had left so much of her life behind when she left town and even though her and Travis had kept in touch, nothing felt like being truly reunited. "Waiting for you to put it up, obviously. I might be a woman of the world, but there's no way I'm trusting myself to build it and it stay standing."

As they began walking back down the drive, Addie wrapped her arm back around his waist to walk with him. "I'm the history teacher, I'm already a nerd. I'm sure my reputation can withstand one outing with a dinosaur, they'll think it's community service." Laughing softly, Addie glanced up at him with a fond smile on her face. "Are you sure you're allowed to be seen with me? Aren't you breaking bro code or something like that?"

The moment he stepped into the café, a wave of cool air greeted him, a sharp contrast to the muggy South Carolina heat outside. Relief washed over him. Just another ordinary day.

He’d known Addie was back in town for a while now. He figured they’d eventually have to talk—really talk—beyond the half-second interaction they’d had weeks ago, when they’d run into each other and practically sprinted in opposite directions. Still, no amount of mental preparation could’ve readied him for this.

His gaze landed on her before his brain could catch up—there she was, mid-argument with her grandmother. And just like that, it hit him. Hard. Like a damn freight train. Twenty years. Twenty fucking years. And somehow, seeing her still felt like being knocked flat on his back. He swallowed once. Maybe twice. Then, steeling himself, he closed the distance between them.

"Hey, Addie." he greeted lamely when he was close enough for her to hear him. "Heard you moved back to town." Was that a question? A statement? What the hell was she supposed to do with it? He didn't know, but in the frenzy of feelings he was currently experiencing, his conversation skills had clearly gone to shit.

"Hi." It had been twenty years but as she looked at him, it felt like it was yesterday. They both looked older but he still looked the same, the same eyes that still looked annoyingly magical even after all this time. Standing in front of him again, it almost felt like the whole of those twenty years disappeared and she was once again a teenager in front of him, not knowing what to say. There had been a time where she had been able to tell him anything, even when she had a dream of a clown riding a dolphin, but after graduation, she seemed to have lost the ability to speak to him.

"Uh yeah, yeah a couple of months ago now." Putting the teas on the table, Adeline diverted her gaze from him for a few seconds, hoping that not looking at him would ease the awkwardness she felt slightly. "Well my grandmother who I may never speak to again ran away without her tea, so there's one available, you know, if you want it." She sat down at her table, gesturing to the cup next to hers. "But this is also awkward as hell so if you want to run away, I would not hold it against you."

She had managed to suppress the memories of the last time she saw Shane. The image of his back as he walked away from her after ending their relationship at their graduation party and hadn't been burned into her mind for a while now, but now looking at him, it was all she saw. "Twenty years suddenly seems like a really long time, huh?"

“That depends,” he says, voice low and steady. “What kind of old friend are we talking about? The kind that used to steal my fries and blame it on stray cats? Or the kind who saved my life and then disappeared like some morally upstanding ghost?”

He turns then. And for a second, Cem just looks at her. Not with shock, exactly—but with the kind of quiet awe that comes with seeing a face you’d half convinced yourself you’d never see again. There’s something unreadable in his expression, locked behind those careful, guarded eyes of his. But his voice softens when he speaks again.

“Addie.” It’s not a question. More like confirmation. Like saying her name out loud is how he’s making sure this isn’t just another memory showing up without warning. He's been having a lot of those, lately. Couldn't really tell anyone why.

He rises slowly from his chair, not rushed, not dramatic—just deliberately. He takes her in the way he would a clue at a crime scene: precise, cautious, reverent. “You found me,” he says guiltly, a half-smile ghosting across his lips. “Only took you… what? A few years and a small miracle?” His eyes flick to hers again, more open this time, a little less guarded. “You look—” he pauses, like he’s trying to pick a word that won’t sound cheap or too much. “You look like you came back for more than just the scenery.” Or so, he suspects. "Tell me, I'm wrong. It seldomly happens."

Raising a hand in a wave as he stood and said her name, the grin broke out across her face. "Cem." As much as she had stayed the same person since she had returned from travelling, naturally she had lost some of the carefree, go with the flow, attitude she'd adopted when she was country hopping. Standing in front of Cem now, she was reminded of that version of herself, the most free she had ever felt.

"Found you? You're in my hometown. Don't tell me you were looking for me?" She was teasing and as he continued, Addie took a few more steps into the office and towards him. "Seems like the universe really wanted you reunited with, what was it? The friend who saved your life and stole your fries?"

Shaking her head, Addie gestured towards the window and the town. "Everyone has to settle sooner or later. I got my teaching qualifications and I moved home. Nowhere else felt right, Briar Ridge is a hard place to shake when you have.. mostly good memories of it." In reality, they were all happy for Adeline, except one. "Am I getting a hug or are we going to pretend we're not insanely happy to be reunited?"