As the te afternoon sun cast long shadows across the path, Myra made her way back towards the familiar comfort of her cottage. A radiant smile pyed on her lips, a genuine reflection of the joy that now filled her heart. The physical aches from that night seemed strangely muted, the lingering tenderness of the wounds overshadowed by the warmth of Freya’s love and the profound connection they had shared.

  Her steps felt lighter than they had in days, her spirit soaring with a happiness that bloomed within her like the wildflowers that lined the roadside. Freya’s vulnerability, her heartfelt confessions, and the depth of her affection had created a bond that felt both fragile and incredibly strong. Myra cherished the memory of their embrace, the unspoken promises exchanged, and the feeling of being truly seen and loved for who she was.

  She marveled at Freya’s understanding, the gentle way she had navigated Myra’s fear and discomfort, and the shared intimacy of the healing. A soft giggle escaped Myra as she recalled the unexpected sensations of Freya's touch, the cool dampness of her tongue against her heated skin. A strange warmth bloomed in her core at the memory, a surprising pleasure that had jolted her with its intensity. She hadn't anticipated such a visceral reaction, a sensual awakening born from an act of healing, and the memory still sent a shiver of unexpected delight through her.

  The feeling was so vivid, so unexpected, that Myra almost stumbled. It was a far cry from the terror of their first encounter, a testament to the shift in their retionship. That intimate act, meant to mend her wounds, had instead stirred something new and powerful within her, a secret she now carried within her heart alongside the knowledge of Freya's true nature and her reciprocated love.

  The familiar sight of her cottage coming into view brought a fresh wave of contentment. Soon she would be home, and though she knew her grandmother would have questions, Myra felt more equipped to face them, her heart brimming with a secret joy that she hoped would radiate through her every word and action.

  Lost in her happy thoughts, she almost didn’t hear the voice calling her name. “Myra!” The sound cut through the peaceful evening air, making her stop in her tracks, a flicker of surprise breaking through her reverie.

  She turned to see Gareth hurrying towards her, his expression a mix of relief and something else she couldn’t quite decipher from a distance. The unexpected encounter jolted Myra back to the reality of her vilge life and the potential complications that y beyond the secluded haven of Freya’s antique shop.

  Gareth approached, a slight pant in his breath, his brow furrowed with concern. “Myra! I’ve been calling your name. I didn’t think you heard me.” His gaze was earnest, searching her face as if to gauge her well-being.

  Myra offered Gareth a polite, though perhaps slightly distracted, smile. “Oh, Gareth! I’m so sorry. I must have been lost in thought. I didn’t hear you calling. Is everything alright?” She tried to sound casual, hoping her lingering happiness wasn’t too obvious, and subtly hoping he wouldn't linger too long. The image of Freya's embrace was still vivid in her mind, and she longed to be alone with those cherished memories.

  Gareth’s expression softened with a genuine concern that made Myra feel a pang of guilt for her earlier distraction. “Yes, well… I was waiting for you,” he expined, his gaze lingering on her. “I went by your cottage earlier, and your grandmother mentioned you were out running errands. I… I was worried about you yesterday, Myra. You seemed a bit unwell when you got back.” His words carried a gentle sincerity that was hard to ignore.

  Myra’s smile faltered slightly. Gareth’s genuine concern was a stark reminder of the life she had outside of Freya’s world, the people who cared about her and noticed when she wasn’t quite herself. “Oh, Gareth,” she said softly, trying to sound reassuring. “Thank you for your concern. I’m alright, truly. I just… had a bit of a long day yesterday and was more tired than I realized.” She hoped her expnation sounded convincing enough to quell his worry without delving into any details of her actual whereabouts or experiences.

  Gareth’s gaze intensified, his earnestness unwavering. “Myra,” he began, his voice a little hesitant, “would you mind talking with me for a bit? I… I wanted to clear up a misunderstanding from when I visited you st. I’ve been wanting to speak with you properly.”

  Myra’s initial instinct was to politely decline. The evening was drawing in, and she longed for the quiet solitude of her cottage and the space to fully process the day’s extraordinary events. “Oh, Gareth, I really should be getting back,” she said, offering a gentle but firm tone. “It’s getting quite te.”

  However, Gareth’s expression turned pleading, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “Please, Myra? It’s been on my mind. I haven’t been able to sleep properly thinking about it. It would really mean a lot to me if we could just talk for a few minutes.” His vulnerability was evident, and Myra hesitated, caught between her desire for solitude and her reluctance to dismiss his heartfelt plea.

  Myra hesitated, her gaze softening slightly as she took in Gareth’s earnest expression. She hadn’t intended to hurt his feelings during his st visit, and the thought that he had been losing sleep over their awkward exchange tugged at her conscience. While her heart now belonged to another, she didn’t want to cause unnecessary pain to someone who had always been kind to her.

  “Alright, Gareth,” she sighed softly. “Just for a little while. It really is getting te, though.” She gestured to a nearby fallen log by the side of the path. “We can sit there for a few minutes.” She hoped a brief conversation would be enough to ease his mind without requiring her to reveal anything about the significant changes that had taken pce in her life.