Page 130 of At First Flight
I lift a shoulder. “Maybe I did.”
He walks toward me, stops just shy of touching, like he’s asking without words. I lean into him, fitting under his arm like I belong there. Because I do.
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs.
I hum. “I turned it down.”
“The lab?”
I nod.
His silence stretches long, but not heavy. Just thoughtful. Then he lets out a slow breath. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” I say truthfully. “I thought I’d feel lost without it. But instead… I feel found.”
He looks down at me, something bright flickering in his eyes. “You don’t need it to be extraordinary. You already are.”
I press my forehead to his chest, breathing him in—cedar, summer, home. He tilts my chin up with one finger and then he kisses me. Soft and slow. Like a promise and a prayer all wrapped into one.
That evening, we gather around the quilt in the backyard. A picnic dinner spread between us, the kids catching butterflies and pretending they’re wizards in a magical forest. Evelyn darts back to the deck, holding up the jar with the butterfly, now dry and ready.
“Can we let her go now?” she asks, eyes round and reverent.
I nod, standing beside her.
Dean moves to my other side, one hand resting gently on the small of my back. “Want to do the honors?” he asks softly.
Evelyn nods and opens the lid slowly, carefully. For a beat, nothing happens, then, with one delicate flutter, the butterfly takes flight, rising into the golden dusk like she knows exactly where she’s going.
The kids cheer.
Dean leans in, whispering, “She found her wings.”
“Yeah,” I say, heart full to bursting. “She really did.”
And I know we weren’t just talking about the butterfly. We were talking about me.
The sun dips lower, casting orange hues across the backyard as the scent of grilled meat and sizzling corn wafts through the air. Oliver’s and Evelyn's laughter rings out as they chase fireflies, their bare feet dancing across the grass. I sit on the quilt, a glass of sweet tea in hand, watching the scene unfold with a heart full of contentment.
Dean approaches, a soft smile playing on his lips. He settles beside me, his presence warm and grounding.
"You did something brave today," he says, his voice low and sincere.
I glance at him, the weight of the day's decision settling in.
He reaches out, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Are you sure about this? The job, staying here… me?"
I turn to face him fully, searching his eyes. "I'm sure. For the first time in a long time, I'm not running toward something that looks good on paper. I'm standing still, choosing what feels right in my bones."
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "That's all I've ever wanted—for you to choose it. Not because of me."
I smile, my heart swelling. "It's not because of you. It's because of me. And them. And the way this town, this house, this life makes me feel like the best version of myself."
We sit in comfortable silence, watching the children twirl and laugh. Realizing that this place, this man, these children didn’t just fill the cracks. They made something entirely new. Something stronger. I’m not running anymore. I’m rooted. And as the wind shifts and a butterfly lifts into the sky, free and sure, I know the truth deep in my bones. This is not the end. This is where everything begins.
Epilogue – Dean
Ferris wheels and sticky fingers. Glow-in-the-dark bracelets wrapped around Evelyn’s wrist like treasure. Oliver with cotton candy smeared across his face, grinning like he’s just seen an actual member ofPaw Patrol.
