The crisp Vermont air carries the scent of fresh-baked bread and pine as Olivia and Fitz walk hand in hand down Main Street. It's their first real outing in town, and the small community already buzzes with warmth and familiarity. Storefronts are decorated with twinkling lights, and snow is packed along the sidewalks, remnants of last night's flurries.
They push open the door to the local general store, a bell jingling overhead. The shop is cozy, lined with wooden shelves filled with fresh produce, maple syrup, and handmade crafts. Behind the counter, the shopkeeper, a sweet elderly woman with silver hair pulled into a bun, greets them with a broad smile.
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Grant," she says brightly, placing a bundle of apples into a paper bag.
Olivia freezes for half a second, her fingers instinctively tightening around Fitz's hand. She glances at him, waiting for him to correct the woman. He doesn't.
Instead, he smirks, his voice easy and unbothered. "Morning, Helen. Hope you're staying warm."
Olivia narrows her eyes, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Fitz leans down, his lips barely brushing her ear as he murmurs, "Very much."
She exhales a soft laugh, shaking her head as she picks up a jar of honey from the counter. "It would be rude to correct her now."
"Exactly." Fitz's grin widens, wrapping his arm around her waist as they finish their shopping.
As they step back onto the sidewalk, Olivia shakes her head, amused. "You're impossible."
Fitz presses a kiss to her temple, his smile lingering against her skin. "And yet, you love me anyway."
She rolls her eyes but doesn't disagree. The town may have jumped ahead, but for the first time in a long time, Olivia lets herself enjoy the possibility of what it means to just be here—with him.