A Different Kind of Bond

Sarah

“You look fine,” Sydney assures me, resting his hand on my thigh as he drives us toward the castle the next afternoon. Rain patters against the windshield, and the frigid landscape is suddenly changed–the silver glow replaced by deeper shades of brown, black, and red.

Spring is nearly here.

A few months ago, I was pacing in my apartment wondering how’d I’d survive alone, with an infant, with an empty refrigerator and barely any money left.

Now I’m sitting beside my mate on our way to break the news to his family.

I squeeze Sydney’s hand and look over at him. His blue eyes soften, but his brows are still pinched with a glimmer of anxiety.

Last night, lying in bed together, we talked about what tonight needed to look like. Sydney is going to take the lead, making an announcement sometime during the dinner proceedings that we’re mates. He was excited as he talked about it, and I realized that this–me–was all he ever wanted–and all he told himself he could never have.

I didn’t r