Page 56 of Five Summer Wishes

I used to think I had to keep moving to matter. That if I stopped… really stopped… everything I’d built would fall apart.

But what if it’s not about building a ladder? What if it’s about planting roots?

I said no to the job. Not because I failed. But because I’m ready to stay.

And I think you’d be proud of that.

I miss you. Thank you for the wishes. For the map. For reminding me what it feels like to be wanted without condition.

Love,

Harper

Then I opened my laptop, pulled up the email from Boston, and typed one sentence.

Thank you for the opportunity. I’ve chosen to stay where I am.

I hit send.

And I didn’t look back.

17

JUNE

Ididn’t expect the quiet to feel this full.

The morning after Harper turned down Boston, the house felt... different. Not louder. Not brighter. Just steadier. Like something had clicked into place none of us had realized was loose.

Willa was still asleep, tangled in a blanket on the couch with her sketchbook open across her chest. Harper was already outside, barefoot in the grass, walking a slow lap around the yard with a cup of coffee like she was learning it all from scratch.

And I… I had Grant.

He was in the kitchen, making pancakes without a recipe, wearing a T-shirt with a fading band logo and a look of pure focus.

Lily sat at the counter, legs swinging, watching him like he was a magic trick.

“You’re gonna flip it too soon,” she said.

Grant raised an eyebrow. “Are you a pancake expert?”

“Obviously.”

He grinned and waited an extra beat before flipping.

Perfectly golden.

She gave him an approving nod. “Not bad.”

We ate at the table, the three of us, like we’d been doing it for years.

No big conversation. No big declarations.

Just syrup and warmth and elbows bumping and the occasional giggle that felt like a balm.

After breakfast, Lily went out to the porch to build what she called a “wish wall” using old postcards and glue dots. Grant stayed to help me with the dishes.

At one point, he reached past me to grab a towel, and my whole body registered the closeness before my brain did. The warmth. The familiarity.

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