The Alphas Fated Mate

Life As Usual...Mundane

Aria took a deep breath as she pulled the truck into a parking spot outside Brian's Pizza Pub. The lunch rush was in full swing, a symphony of clinking dishes and lively chatter, the familiar hustle and bustle of her small hometown. Inhaling the scent of freshly baked pizza, she steeled herself for the day ahead. Brian's Pizza Pub was more than just a pizzeria; it was a cornerstone of her community, and Brian, its owner, had been a steadfast presence in her life.

Aria's mind wandered briefly to the history behind the place. The restaurant bore the name of Brian's parents' only child, an ode to a generational family legacy. The secret to their famous sauce had been passed down through the ages, a recipe perfected over time. Brian had taken the reins at just twenty, but his roots ran deep in this town. He and her father had been best friends since kindergarten, a bond unbreakable even by time. It was this friendship that had given Aria her job and, she hoped, saved her from the recent turmoil in her life.

Today was a new day, and the possibilities it held felt like a distant horizon, as vast and uncertain as the world itself. Aria mustered her courage, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Brian's booming voice resonated from the kitchen, and as he caught sight of her, he halted in his tracks. The expression in his eyes danced between anger and concern before he chose the latter, enveloping her in a tight, reassuring hug.

"Aria, you had me scared to death," Brian exclaimed, a rapid-fire barrage of questions filling the air. "Where have you been? Why haven't you been answering my calls or texts?"

She wriggled free from the embrace and, her voice barely above a whisper, replied, "Sorry, I've been sleeping."

His shock was fleeting, transforming into understanding, mingled with the weight of the past year's anniversary. Aria could see the words he held back, the ones that hovered on the precipice of their conversation. Her eyes flicked to the calendar, her silent tribute to a year of heartache.

As Brian's anger threatened to surface, she stopped him before he could utter what he feared. "Brian, I'm sorry about the last several days. I shouldn't have left you shorthanded, but as long as I still have a job, I'd like to get to it."

Grateful that Aria wasn't ready to address the real reason for her absence, Brian extended his support. "I'd never fire you, doll. As long as you want a job, you've got one here. Now, get your butt to work."

With the weight of job security lifting her spirits, Aria hugged him again and rushed to the back to grab her apron and order pad. Working at Brian's had been a lifeline since she was sixteen. In a town where jobs were scarce and the nearest employment required a 40-minute drive, his offer had been a lifeline. Her father's passing had only deepened her connection to the place, and Brian's unwavering support was her anchor.

Throughout her shift, regular customers dropped by, having heard that Aria had returned. They wanted to ensure she was okay, and Brian kept a close eye on her. They all seemed to be waiting for her to break, but Aria, with steely resolve, refused to shed a single tear. The kind words and hugs served as both a comfort and a painful reminder, a bittersweet mixture of solace and torment.

On her break, Aria retreated to the back of the restaurant, seeking solitude. Brian's Pizza Pub sat on the edge of town, its back bordering the woods. She sank to the cold ground, taking in the serene silence, the stark contrast to the cacophony inside.

Moments later, she heard the back door creak open, and someone settled beside her. It didn't take a glance to know that it was Brian. He released a heavy sigh, breaking the silence, "I was going to leave you be, but after watching you today, I think you need a reminder."

Aria was puzzled. A reminder? What had she forgotten? She had managed to take every order flawlessly, despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

"Of how much your Daddy loved you, Aria."

His words cut deep, and she blinked back tears, her heart heavy. "I know he did."

Brian wasn't one to give up easily. Gently, he turned her face toward him. "Aria, he did, and he wouldn't want to see you this way. You're so busy thinking about how he's gone that you're not remembering the good times you had when he was here. Heck, you can't even bear to hear me tell you he loved you. I see the tears in your eyes, doll."

Aria closed her eyes, trying to steady her emotions. "I know, Brian. I'm trying to heal."

"You're never going to fully heal, doll, but you should be able to move on with your life," Brian insisted. "And I can tell you're not allowing yourself to do that. Have you even started cleaning out your Dad's room?"

Aria's response was a vehement outburst, "It's too soon!"

Brian, ever patient, ignored her outburst. "I know it seems that way, but it might help."

Torn between a desire for closure and the anguish of letting go, Aria admitted, "I don't think I can. I haven't even gone into his room since he's been gone."

Brian's offer of help surprised her, but he emphasized the strength of their bond. "You didn't ask; I offered. Your father was like my brother, and that makes you my family. I'd do anything for my family, Aria, and I can see you need this."

A faint smile broke through Aria's emotional defenses. "Thanks, I think you're right. I need to start letting go."

"Take it one day at a time, doll. That's all any of us can do."

Brian extended his hand to help her up, and they shared yet another hug. Aria, half-jokingly, contemplated getting a t-shirt that read "Stop Hugging Me."

Reluctantly, she released herself from his embrace, and Brian reassured her, "I'll come over tomorrow morning before work and start if that's okay."

Grateful for his unwavering support, she agreed, "Yeah, that's fine."

Brian returned to the restaurant, leaving Aria outside to gather her thoughts. She leaned against the wall, her gaze drawn to the woods beyond. As she contemplated the looming shadow at the forest's edge, she felt an inexplicable pull, an irresistible curiosity driving her forward.

A few feet from the tree line, her name was called, snapping her out of her trance. She glanced around, suddenly aware of her surroundings, and her gaze darted back to the woods. In a hasty retreat, she backed away and made her way inside.

As the door closed behind her, a newfound sense of hope blossomed within her, a quiet whisper of resilience that had been hidden beneath her grief.