Days slipped by quietly as Alexandra continued her discreet investigation—collecting documents, piecing timelines together, coordinating with Gwen behind closed doors. Each new finding added pressure behind her ribs, a knot that tightened a little more every day.
But today, she pushed all of it aside.
Today was for Sam's family.
For Nana.
For peace.
When they pulled up to Nana's house, warm lights glowed through the curtains, and the scent of something home-cooked drifted all the way to the driveway.
The moment they stepped inside, Nana was already waiting in the hallway, apron still on, cheeks flushed from cooking.
"There you are, my darlings! I thought you two changed your minds." Nana spread her arms dramatically.
"That won't happen," Sam said, immediately slipping beside her to give her a hug. "Especially because Alexandra has been talking about your cooking all week."
"I would never miss it, Nana," Alexandra said, hugging the older woman with genuine affection. "And we missed you."
Nana beamed and waved them inside. "Come in, come in. Food's getting cold!"
But before they reached the dining room, familiar faces popped up from the living room couch.
Sam blinked. "You guys are here?"
Vienne stood, grinning. "Grandma invited us. You know how she is."
Dalton stretched lazily. "Couldn't say no. She might put us on her blacklist."
Alexandra laughed. "Then I'm glad you came. The more the merrier."
"Come on, kids!" Nana called from the dining room. "Food!"
"We're coming, Nana," Jane answered from behind her book.
Lunch was loud and warm, filled with stories flying across the table. Nana kept piling food onto plates that were already full.
"Eat more, Alex," Nana insisted, adding a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
"Nana, she has enough!" Sam playfully scolded.
"She's too thin," Nana declared, ignoring her granddaughter.
"She's literally not," Sam muttered, earning laughter from everyone—and a fond eye-roll from Alexandra.
After lunch, they cleared the table and somehow drifted into a half-competitive, half-chaotic game of Scribbles at the coffee table. Sam was terrible at drawing animals. Dalton kept turning everything into jokes. Vienne took the game way too seriously.
At one point, Alexandra had to draw "octopus," and Sam leaned over, whispering, "Why does that look like a very sad flower?"
"It's open to interpretation," Alexandra argued, trying not to laugh.
The room felt full—of noise, of warmth, of a kind of belonging Alexandra hadn't realized she missed.
Later that night, after the dishes had been done and the sky was dark, they gathered in the living room with drinks, soft music humming in the background. The energy had mellowed into that comfortable glow that comes after a long day spent with people you trust.
Vienne, who had been eyeing them for a while, finally raised a brow.
"So... are we just going to ignore how disgustingly sweet you two are now?"
Sam choked on her drink. "What?"
Dalton pointed at them with his glass. "Seriously. At the reunion and Cassey's wedding, you two barely stood next to each other. Now you're like—" he gestured vaguely, "a magnet and metal."
Alexandra laughed, leaning slightly into Sam's side. "We've... gotten closer."
"Closer?" Vienne shot back. "You two haven't been more than six inches apart since lunch."
Jane lifted her cup. "I approve. It's cute."
Sam flushed but didn't deny it. Instead, she slipped her fingers through Alexandra's on the couch, thumb brushing her knuckles in slow circles.
"I just love this woman," Sam said softly, almost shyly, like she hadn't meant to say it aloud.
The cousins went quiet. Then all three of them groaned dramatically.
"Ugh, gross," Dalton said.
"Get a room," Vienne teased.
Jane clapped once. "I love Love."
Alexandra turned to Sam, their hands still intertwined, and smiled—slow, soft, affectionate. A smile that carried gratitude, longing, and a pang of guilt she couldn't shake.
Sam met her gaze with warm eyes, the kind of eyes that made Alexandra feel like she had a home to come back to.
And just for that moment, Alexandra let herself forget the investigation, the danger creeping around Kingsley Technologies, the shadow threatening Sam's name and future.
For tonight, she allowed herself to love.
As the night deepened, the house had settled into a peaceful rhythm. Cousins had retired to their rooms, Sam was tidying up on the porch, and the soft glow from the kitchen lamp cast a golden warmth across the countertops. Alexandra stepped in for a glass of water, but she froze at the sight of Nana sitting at the small table, her tea steaming gently in her hands.
"Come, sit with me, dear" Nana said softly, patting the chair across from her. Her eyes were calm, sharp, and unwavering—eyes that could read far more than they let on.
Alexandra obeyed, folding her hands in her lap. There was a quiet gravity in Nana's presence tonight, as if she were about to share something she had held in her heart for a long time.
"I've been watching you two," Nana said gently. "And I want you to know... I like you, Alexandra. Not just for Sam, but for who you are."
Alexandra's chest warmed, a flutter of emotion she hadn't expected. "Thank you, Nana," she whispered.
Nana leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "I've seen my Sam happy these past weeks... truly happy, like I haven't seen since her parents... since they passed. And that happiness? You've given it to her. You make her laugh, you make her feel safe, you make her whole. That's rare. And it matters to me."
Alexandra felt her throat tighten. She had always wanted Sam to feel joy again, to feel loved and protected—and hearing it from Nana, the woman who had raised her beloved Sam, filled her with a deep, quiet pride.
Nana reached across the table and took Alexandra's hands in hers. The warmth of her touch grounded Alexandra, making her feel both small and significant at the same time.
"I trust you," Nana continued, her voice steady but full of feeling. "I trust you with her heart, her happiness, and everything she holds dear. I've watched you care for her, and I can see the love in your every action. That's all I could ever hope for Sam, and now... I know she's in good hands. With you."
Alexandra's eyes glistened. "I promise, Nana. I will always take care of her. Always."
Nana's eyes softened further, a small smile tugging at her lips. "And that's enough for me. You're not just someone she loves... you are someone I respect, someone I admire. You've become part of our family just by being true to her, by loving her well. That is everything."
A quiet pause hung in the room, the only sound the faint hiss of the tea kettle on the stove. Alexandra felt her chest swell, the weight of responsibility and the warmth of trust mingling in her heart.
Nana gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "Tonight, just remember this—my Sammy is lucky to have you. And I am lucky to see her so happy, so full of life, because of you. Keep loving her like this, Alexandra, and nothing else will matter."
Alexandra nodded, a quiet tear slipping down her cheek. "I will, Nana. I promise."
Nana leaned back, eyes twinkling softly. "Good. Now go to her. She's probably waiting somewhere, thinking about you, smiling. That's the way it should be."
As Alexandra stood, she felt a quiet warmth and reassurance settle over her. She wasn't just protecting Sam's happiness—she was trusted to nurture it, and that trust, given so fully, strengthened her resolve more than anything else could.
And as she walked toward Sam, she carried Nana's blessing with her, letting it wrap around her heart like a soft, steady flame.