The Bride Widow
Chapter 153: Ch 153: Gentle Reassurance - Part 3

Chapter 153: Ch 153: Gentle Reassurance - Part 3

Noah’s brows furrowed, and Clair exchanged a glance with him before stepping forward. "Anabella, you don’t have to push yourself so hard," Clair said gently. "You’ve been through so much recently. It’s okay to take a break."

"I’m fine," Anabella insisted, her tone sharper than she intended. She stood, smoothing her skirt nervously. "The bakery needs me, and I can’t afford to just sit around."

Noah let out a soft huff of frustration, crossing his arms. "You don’t have to do everything by yourself, you know," he said, his voice edged with impatience. "You’ve got us. Two alphas who are more than willing to help you. Why are you trying so hard when you don’t have to?"

The words hit Anabella like a slap. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as a rush of emotions surged within her—frustration, guilt, and a deep-seated fear of losing herself to the well-meaning care of others. She felt caged, her autonomy slipping away under the weight of their protective instincts.

"Because I don’t want to be a burden!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "I’m not a child, and I don’t need to be treated like one. Just let me take care of myself for once!"

The room fell into a stunned silence. Anabella’s breath hitched as the reality of her outburst sank in. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a wave of guilt crashed over her. She hadn’t meant to lash out—not at Clair and Noah, who had done nothing but support her.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. "I didn’t mean to... I just... I’m sorry."

Clair was the first to recover. She stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Anabella’s shoulder. "Hey," she said softly, her tone warm and forgiving. "It’s okay. We get it. You’re not a burden, Anabella, and we didn’t mean to make you feel that way."

Noah rubbed the back of his neck, his earlier frustration melting into a rueful expression. "We’re just worried about you," he admitted. "But we didn’t mean to overstep. You’re right—we should treat you like the strong, capable adult you are."

Anabella looked between them, her chest tightening at their understanding expressions. Their forgiveness only made her guilt weigh heavier, but it also eased some of the tension in her heart. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I just... I need to do this on my own. At least some of it."

Clair nodded. "We understand. But remember, leaning on others doesn’t make you any less capable. It just means you’re human."

Anabella managed a small smile, though her chest still ached with emotion. "I’ll try to remember that."

Noah stepped closer, his expression softening further. "We’re not going to stop worrying about you, you know. But we’ll try to give you the space you need." He paused, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Just don’t burn the house down again, okay?"

A faint laugh escaped Anabella, breaking the tension in the room. "I’ll do my best."

The moment of levity was brief but meaningful. The three of them sat back down, the earlier confrontation giving way to a renewed sense of understanding. Anabella could still feel the weight of their concern, but it no longer felt as stifling. Instead, it was a reminder that she wasn’t as alone as she sometimes felt.

______

Later that evening, Anabella packed her things to leave. Clair and Noah didn’t protest this time, though they watched her movements with quiet attentiveness. As she slung her bag over her shoulder, Clair handed her a container of leftovers from dinner.

"Take this," Clair said. "Just in case you don’t have time to cook tomorrow."

Anabella hesitated but eventually took the container with a grateful nod. "Thank you."

Noah walked her to the door, his hands shoved into his pockets. "You’ll call if you need anything, right?"

"I will," Anabella promised, though she wasn’t sure if she truly meant it. Her instinct was still to handle things on her own, but she didn’t want to worry them any more than she already had.

As she stepped outside, the cool night air greeted her, and she paused to take it in. She turned back to Clair and Noah, who stood in the doorway watching her.

"Goodnight," she said, her voice softer now. "And thank you again."

"Goodnight," Clair replied, her smile warm.

"Take care," Noah added, his tone lighter but no less sincere.

Anabella walked away, her steps steady even as her mind raced. The day’s events had left her drained, but there was a small, flickering warmth in her chest—a reminder that she wasn’t as alone as she sometimes felt.

She still had a long road ahead, but for the first time in a while, she felt like she could face it.

Anabella pushed the bakery door open, the familiar scent of flour and sugar greeting her like an old friend.

The soft chime of the bell overhead echoed in the empty space, reminding her of the stillness before the morning rush.

She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, leaning heavily against it as a deep sigh escaped her lips. The cool wood pressed against her back felt grounding, yet her thoughts swirled chaotically.

The bakery, her sanctuary, offered her a momentary reprieve from the chaos of her personal life. The countertops were spotless, the displays empty but ready to be filled with fresh pastries and bread. It was quiet, peaceful, and yet the weight of her emotions felt heavier than ever.

She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling as her hands clenched at her sides. Coming here was supposed to help, supposed to give her a sense of normalcy. But all it did was remind her of how much her world had shifted.

For a moment, she considered walking right back out, but then she caught sight of the handwritten recipes pinned to the wall. This place was her life, her escape. She exhaled, straightened her posture, and resolved to begin her day.

___

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