Chapter 12 - THE DINNER WHERE NOBODY HAD TO PRETEND
Six months after the night at Miller's Corner, Cal invited Lucy and me to dinner.
He cooked spaghetti.
Noah made garlic bread.
Lucy insisted on setting the table.
The plates didn't match.
The chairs were old.
The kitchen was small.
But the house felt warm.
Safe.
Alive.
After dinner, the children built a blanket fort in the living room.
Cal and I sat on the porch.
The air smelled of rain.
He looked at me.
“Can I ask you something?”
I smiled.
“Depends.”
He laughed.
“Do you ever regret letting Lucy sit with us?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He smiled.
“Even after everything?”
“Especially after everything.”
He looked down.
“I didn't expect any of this.”
“Neither did I.”
He took a breath.
“Hannah.”
I looked at him.
“Yes?”
“I like you.”
My heart skipped.
He smiled nervously.
“More than I probably should.”
I laughed softly.
“That's inconvenient.”
He grinned.
“Very.”
I reached for his hand.
May you like
“I like you too.”
And for the first time in years, I wasn't afraid of what came next.
