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"Belle, wait," I say as she starts to get out. "Can I walk you up?"

She shakes her head with a gentle smile. "Not tonight. Tonight ends right here, with chocolate on our hands and no complications."

I watch her walk to her building, admiring her strength in knowing what she needs and asking for it. She turns to wave before disappearing inside, and I sit in my car for a long moment, replaying every perfect moment of our evening together.

Belle Hartwell is worth waiting for. And if she needs time to process this at her own pace, then that's exactly what I'll give her.

28

THE WILLOWBROOK CHRONICLE

Beloved Tattletales,

Well, well, WELL! Lady Inkwell simply cannot contain herself any longer! The romantic developments in our charming little town have reached such delicious heights that this correspondent can barely keep track of all the swoon-worthy happenings!

Our dear Miss Belle Hartwell has been positivelybusythese past few days, and Lady Inkwell means BUSY, darlings! First, our sweet librarian was spotted at the construction site downtown, sharing what appeared to be a rather intimate lunch with none other than the devastatingly handsome Marcus Sterling! The two were seen deep in conversation, and Marcus was positively glowing as he showed Belle around his latest project. How absolutely romantic!

But wait, there's MORE! Just days later, our Belle was observed emerging from Marseille's Chocolaterie looking absolutely radiant in the company of the brilliant architect Felix Romano! The pair had clearly enjoyed a private chocolate-making session, both carrying elegant boxes and looking rather... smitten, shall we say? The way Felix gazed at our dear librarian was enough to melt even Lady Inkwell's cynical heart!

Now, Lady Inkwell is no mathematician, but this can only lead to the suspicion that Belle is an omega. Both gentlemen appeared completely besotted, and our Belle seemed equally enchanted by each encounter.

The very thought makes Lady Inkwell positively dizzy with excitement! A true pack bond would explain so much - the way each alpha seems completely devoted to Belle, the lack of territorial tension one might expect, and most tellingly, the way our dear librarian appears to be blossoming under all this romantic attention rather than feeling torn between choices!

Lady Inkwell will be watching with the utmost attention for any signs of a third date, because if her suspicions prove correct, we may be witnessing the formation of the most romantic pack bond this town has ever seen!

Yours in breathless anticipation,Lady Inkwell

P.S. - Speaking of romantic mathematics, Lady Inkwell couldn't help but notice that the library has been positively glowing with contentment lately. Perhaps love really is the best organizational system of all!

29

THEO

I’ve been standing outside the Metropolitan Opera House for ten minutes, checking my watch and scanning the crowd with the same systematic attention I used to reserve for potential threats in hostile territory. Old habits die hard, even when the only danger tonight is the possibility that I might say something stupid and ruin everything we've built with Belle.

The suit I'm wearing feels foreign after years of tactical gear and construction site clothing, but Marcus insisted I "clean up nice" for tonight. The black wool jacket fits well enough, and the crisp white shirt doesn't feel like a straightjacket the way formal wear usually does. But I keep reaching for weapons that aren't there, keep scanning exits and sight lines like I'm expecting trouble.

When I called Belle three days ago to ask about our date, I'd spent an hour staring at my phone before finally dialing. Marcus and Felix make conversation look effortless, but I've never been good at small talk. Give me a tactical situation to assess or a security problem to solve, and I'm in my element. Ask me to plan a romantic evening with the woman who's become the center of my universe, and I'm completely out of my depth.

"An opera?" Belle had asked when I finally worked up the courage to suggest it, and I could hear the surprise in her voice.

"If you hate the idea, we can do something else," I'd said quickly, already second-guessing myself. "I just thought... you mentioned at the ball that you love stories, and opera is essentially storytelling through music. But if it's too boring or pretentious..."

"Theo," she'd interrupted gently, "I think an opera sounds wonderful. I've never been to one."

"Really?"

"Really. What made you think of it?"

The honest answer was that I'd spent two hours researching date ideas that would show Belle a different side of me, something beyond the military background and security work that defined most people's perception of who I am. The opera felt like a chance to share something beautiful with her, something that required nothing from either of us except the willingness to sit in the dark and let music tell us a story.

"I used to go sometimes when I was stationed overseas," I'd told her. "It was one of the few things that could quiet my mind after difficult missions. There's something about the music, the way it can express emotions that are too big for words."

The pause on her end had stretched long enough to make me panic. "Belle? If you'd rather do something else..."

"No," she'd said softly. "Theo, that sounds perfect. What opera are we seeing?"

"La Bohème. It's about artists and love and loss, set in 1800s Paris. Tragic but beautiful."