Page 38 of Redemption

"No," she puts her hand on my thigh. "We just got here."

The Café buzzes with the low hum of chatter and the clinking of silverware, creating an ambiance I've come to associate with peace.

Levi is drawing on the paper placemat, carefully outlining what looks like a dinosaur. Molly giggles, trying to imitate her brother with the pen in her hand.

"How was work?" Ruby asks, her eyes searching mine.

"It's getting better," I reply. "Busy, but good." I pause, considering how different that answer would have been just a few months ago. "Feels right finally."

Ruby's smile widens, and there's that flash of understanding between us. She knows what I mean—how much ground we've covered since the mountains.

The waitress comes by, setting down menus we hardly need. I order my usual, and Ruby follows suit. The kids opt for macaroni and cheese, their tried-and-true favorite.

As we wait, I watch them engage in a world of their own. Levi and Molly's laughter is infectious, bringing a warmth to my chest.

I find myself drifting back to those pivotal days in the mountains. If I hadn’t invited Ruby, if we hadn’t faced the storm head-on, what then? It's a thought that sometimes creeps in, uninvited but persistent. Life was on the verge of collapse, and every argument felt like it carried a finality I couldn't bear.

But this dinner, this simple gathering reminds me why I fought so hard to mend the broken pieces. I look at Ruby, remember our conversations a few weeks ago, the tears and the laughter. Slowly, we began to untangle ourselves from the mess, layer by layer.

The food arrives, interrupting my reverie. Molly immediately digs in, her face lighting up with glee, while Levi meticulously arranges his plate to his liking. Their innocence is a balm, soothing in its simplicity.

Conversation flows easily. We talk about the stupid shit—the week's plans, the kids' adventures at school. It hits home howthese ordinary moments are anything but. They're precious, the framework of this life we're rebuilding.

Ruby catches my eye over her iced tea. "It’s nice, isn’t it?" she says softly.

I nod, knowing she feels it too. The calm after the storm, the quiet understanding that underpins every word and every silence. We talk about taking another trip soon, just the two of us, to keep nurturing what we’ve rebuilt.

As dinner winds down, the kids grow restless, eager for dessert. I watch them with a soft smile, their energy filling the room. It's hard to imagine what it would be like if things had gone differently—if Ruby wasn’t here beside me, if laughter and love hadn’t found their way back into our home.

I put my hand over hers, a simple gesture full of unspoken promises—a reminder of the road we've traveled and a commitment to the path ahead.

"Thank you," I murmur, and she raises an eyebrow in question. "For everything," I clarify.

Ruby squeezes my hand in return. Her eyes say what doesn’t need words: We're in this together.

As we gather our things to leave, I feel a profound sense of gratitude. For second chances, for love that endures, for the courage to invite her to the mountains. My heart is full, reminded once more that it’s the choices we make, even the tough ones, that shape the life we lead.

Stepping out into the crisp evening air, hand in hand with Ruby and the kids bouncing ahead, I know this is exactly where I'm meant to be.

EPILOGUE

RAVEN

My stomach isin knots as I wait for Stephanie to answer her door. After texting for three weeks, she's agreed to go out on a real date with me. I'd called her, but we hadn't been able to make it worth with our conflicting schedules.

Tonight, she's agreed to go out tacos with me.

I'm standing in front of Stephanie's door, nervously shifting my weight from one foot to the other. The light flickers, casting a warm glow around me, and I feel like I'm about to step into a new chapter of my life.

The door swings open, and there she is, looking effortlessly stunning in a casual dress, hair cascading over her shoulders. Her smile is a mix of excitement and a hint of shyness, a reflection of my own emotions.

“Hey, you,” she says, her voice soft and inviting.

“Hey, yourself.” I grin, trying to keep my cool but probably failing miserably. “Ready for the best tacos in town?”

“I’ve been looking forward to this,” she admits, stepping out and closing the door behind her. We walk to my car, the conversation easing the tension that has been building inside me all day.

The drive to the taco place is filled with laughter and stories, a comfortable chatter that makes me forget why I was so nervous earlier. The restaurant is buzzing with energy, the air filled with the mouthwatering scent of grilled meats and spices.

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