Page 51 of Second Chance with the Half-Elf
Jamie tugs at her elbow then, dragging her toward the carving table with a squeal about “monster pumpkins.” She glances back once before turning, and I watch her go like a man watching a wave roll out after almost drowning.
“I thought you’d be closer by now.”
Drokhaz’s voice breaks the silence beside me. I didn’t hear him come up.
I grunt. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”
“She looked happy.”
“She lookedfree.”
He hands me a paper cup. Cider. Warm. Spiced. Something to hold that isn’t a mistake.
I take it.
“You gonna talk to her?” he asks.
“Eventually.”
“Before or after you grow roots into this sidewalk?”
I glance sideways. He’s not smiling. Just watching her with that same unreadable look.
“She’s still carrying it,” I murmur. “All of it. The guilt. The fear.”
“She’s carrying less tonight.”
I sip the cider. It burns. Sweet. Sharp.
“She gave me a photo,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“She didn’t say a word. Just left it.”
“She doesn’t need to,” Drokhaz says. “Not anymore. She’s showing you.”
I nod slowly.
Because he’s right.
Because love’s not always loud.
Sometimes it’s quiet.
Sometimes it’s the press of a camera into your hand, a shared silence on a cliff, or a glance across a lantern-lit street that says,Don’t give up on me yet.
I watch her again.
And this time, I let myself hope.
CHAPTER 19
EVIE
The first rule of surviving a parade float build with a five-year-old? Surrender your pride at the door and accept that glitter glue will find its way into your socks.
The second? Don’t fight the chaos. Embrace it like it’s a lifestyle choice.
