Page 38 of Second Chance with the Half-Elf

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Her handwriting again. Neater this time. Intimate.

Evie,

If you’re reading this, then I’m not there to give you the speech in person. And knowing you, you’ve already made three exit strategies and packed twice.

I see you, kid. Because you’re me.

I ran from love, once. Maybe more than once. Thought freedom meant solitude. Thought being alone made me stronger.

But here’s what I learned too late: distance doesn’t protect you. It just postpones the grief.

Love doesn’t ask you to lose yourself. It dares you to be more of who you already are.

And yeah—it might wreck you. But so will regret. Quietly. Daily. Soft as a knife you never feel going in.

If Aeron’s still there... if he still looks at you like the tide waits for your breath... don’t run.

You don’t have to be brave all the time.

You just have to stop pretending you don’t want to stay.

I hope you stay.

—Mom

My hands are shaking.

I read it again. Then a third time.

And the truth slams through me like a rogue wave: I’m not scared of Aeron breaking my heart. I’m scared he won’t try to stop me if I walk away.

Because that would mean I never mattered.

That all these years I kept him in my chest like a damn anchor... were mine alone.

I wipe my eyes hard with the back of my wrist.

“Shit,” I whisper.

And then I say it louder.

“Shit.”

Because now I’ve got a choice.

And I don’t know how to make it.

By twilight, I’m out on the back porch with a bottle of wine I told Rowan I wouldn’t open without her. Too bad. Desperation trumps sentimentality.

The waves crash below, steady and cruel.

My camera’s beside me, untouched.

Because for once, I’m not interested in freezing time.

I want to move forward.

And maybe toward something I don’t have to run from.

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