Slice of Life

Later, after the dishes are done and the house falls into that soft, sleepy hush, I step out onto the porch. The air smells like pine and a hint of grilled corn, and somewhere a coyote yips into the night before settling back into silence.
I sink into the porch swing, pulling my knees close, and stare out at the stars. They’re sharp and scattered tonight, like someone flung a handful of diamonds across black velvet.
Emma’s words from earlier echo in my head: “You can’t outrun something that’s already in your heart.”
I think about Maisie’s tearful eyes, the way Jack’s voice cracked just a little when he said don’t leave us, and how his hand brushed mine when he helped clear the table, quick, accidental, but enough to make something deep inside me ache.
I close my eyes, and in the silence, the truth settles heavy and sure.
I want to belong here, more than I should, more than I planned.
But wanting something this much only stirs the fear that surrounds me. And I can’t help wondering… am I strong enough to face it?