Page 17 of Atonement Trail
“It was. Is. But standing in your grandfather’s ruins, seeing what your family built over centuries—I realized I’ve been so afraid of endings that I never allowed beginnings.”
“And now?”
“Now I want to try. To see if I can build something that lasts longer than my fear.”
They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of shared truth settling between them like sediment in still water. Around them, The Lampstand hummed with Tuesday night life—conversations rising and falling like waves, laughter punctuating the air like birdsong, the ordinary magic of people sharing food and time and stories.
“Walk with me,” Aidan said after he’d paid the check, waving off her protests. “I want to show you something.”
Outside, Main Street had transformed into something from a Halloween fairy tale. The decorations that seemed cheerful in daylight had become mysterious in darkness, shadows dancing between streetlights, jack-o’-lanterns grinning with ancient knowledge. The mountains pressed close, their darkness complete except for the occasional light from houses scattered like fallen stars on their slopes.
They walked in comfortable silence until Aidan stopped at an empty storefront three doors down from the garage. The windows were dark, dusty, forgotten looking, but he produced a key with the flourish of a magician revealing the prestige.
“What is this?” Dylan asked.
“Potential,” he said, unlocking the door and finding the light switch.
The space exploded into visibility—high ceilings that seemed to reach toward heaven, original hardwood floors that had supported a century of dreams and failures, exposed brick walls that wore their age like dignity. It was raw, empty, waiting.
“When the restoration division outgrows its corner of The Pinnacle,” Aidan said, “this could be yours. Your own space, your own shop.”
Dylan walked through slowly, her footsteps echoing in the emptiness that felt full of tomorrow. She could see it already—the lift here, the office there, the reception area where she’d hang before-and-after photos like testimonies to transformation.
“You already bought it?”
“Option to buy. The owner’s been trying to sell for two years. I wanted to secure the possibility.”
“Why?” The word came out soft as prayer.
“Because I believe in you. In what you can build. Because—” He stopped, exhaling slowly. “Because I want you to have reasons to stay that have nothing to do with me but everything to do with who you could become here.”
The honesty of it, the thoughtfulness, the way he was offering her dreams without strings—it all combined to crack something open in Dylan’s chest, something she’d kept frozen since the night she’d watched her father’s chest stop rising and falling and learned that love was just another word for loss.
“Thank you,” she managed, the words inadequate for the gift he was offering.
“Thank you for staying long enough to accept it.”
They stood in the empty space, future sprawling before them like an unmapped road. Dylan could feel the weight of possibility, the terrible beautiful burden of hope. This wasn’t just about restoration anymore. This was about resurrection—of dreams, of faith, of the ability to believe that some things were worth the risk of wanting them.
“Your grandmother’s diaries,” she said, needing safer ground. “We should look through them for clues about where your grandparents met, where their love story began.”
“Thursday night? After work? I’ll make dinner—nothing fancy, but I can manage pasta without burning the house down.”
“Your house?” The idea of being in his space, his private world, sent a thrill of danger through her.
“More room to spread out the documents. Plus, Mom left three boxes of family photos and papers when she heard about the treasure hunt. She’s been waiting forty years for someone to care about family history.”
They walked back toward her apartment, the October night wrapping around them like a shawl knitted from moonlight and woodsmoke. At her door, they paused, neither quite ready to end whatever this evening had become.
“Partners,” Aidan said, and the word carried more weight than any contract could hold.
“Partners,” Dylan agreed.
She climbed the stairs to her apartment, each step feeling like ascending toward something larger than herself. Inside, she stood at her window, watching Aidan walk back down Main Street, his figure gradually absorbed by darkness until only the memory of him remained.
Her phone lit up immediately:
Sophie—The whole town is buzzing. Simone gave you the corner booth!
