Page 27 of Second Chance with the Half-Elf
Liara pauses mid-cleanup. I brace myself.
Jamie leans forward. “Monsters get lonely, too.”
My breath stutters.
“They always say monsters are scary,” Jamie continues, “but I think they’re just... waiting. For someone to see them and not scream.”
Liara glances at me.
Jamie keeps going, soft and certain. “Why do grownups run from nice monsters?”
The question hits me like a slap in the chest.
I open my mouth.
But there’s no answer.
Only a thousand unfinished ones crowding my throat.
Because maybe monsters aren’t the ones we need to fear.
Maybe it’s the part of us that bolts when something good knocks at the door.
By the time I make it back to the beach house, the sun’s lowering into the water, bleeding gold into the horizon.
The wind has calmed. The air smells clean—like salt and sage and new promises. I step onto the porch and still.
He’s gone.
Of course he is.
The couch inside’s been smoothed out, the blanket folded. The fire’s out. But something’s different.
Something waits by the door: a worn canvas satchel.
I kneel, heart thudding. My hands shake as I pull it open.
Inside: a camera.
Mycamera.
The old 35mm Nikon I thought I’d lost in a storm fifteen years ago. The one Aeron used to grab out of my hands and point back at me with that crooked smirk.
The lens is cracked, but it’s been cleaned. Cared for.
Inside the side pouch is a note.
We were always a story worth finishing. —A
My vision blurs.
I lower myself to the step, camera in my lap, note trembling in my fingers.
He didn’t chase me.
Didn’t push.
Just left behind a piece of our beginning.
