Page 17 of Firefly Nights

Now she does turn. "Nathan?—"

"I told them no."

She blinks. "What?"

"Turns out there are some things more important than the next big project." I set the telescope case in the grass. "Some foundations worth building on."

"If this is pity, or guilt, or?—"

"It's me choosing to stay." I take a step closer. "It's me realizing that maybe the best opportunities aren't always the ones that take you somewhere new. Sometimes they're the ones that show you where you belong."

A firefly drifts between us, and Grace's eyes follow it. "Where you belong," she repeats softly.

"Here." I reach for the telescope case. "With you. If you'll have someone who's still learning how to put down roots."

She watches as I open the case, revealing the restored brass telescope, its surface catching the last light of day. "What is?—"

"Found it a few weeks ago. Been restoring it ever since." I start setting up the tripod, letting my hands steady my racing heart. "Thought maybe we could use it for stargazing. You know, combine your love of stories with my need to understand how things work."

"You've been working on this for weeks? Even while planning to leave?"

I adjust the angle, unable to quite meet her eyes. "Guess some part of me knew I was making the wrong choice. That running might be familiar, but it's not always right."

My hands shake slightly as I fine-tune the focus. Grace steps closer, close enough that I can smell books and lavender and possibility.

"There," I say, stepping back. "Take a look."

She bends to peer through the eyepiece, and her soft gasp makes everything worth it. "It's beautiful. The stars are so clear, so—" She straightens suddenly, turning to face me. "Why?"

"Because you taught me that sometimes the most practical thing you can do is believe in magic." I touch her cheek gently. "Because you make me want to build something that lasts."

"Even if it's scary?"

"Terrifying." I smile. "But I figure if you're brave enough to step out of your stories, I can be brave enough to stay in one."

"Our story," she whispers.

"Yeah." I lean forward until our foreheads touch. "And I'm thinking it might be the best one yet."

Her hand finds mine in the growing dark. Above us, stars emerge one by one, and fireflies create their own constellations in the meadow grass. When Grace tilts her face up to mine, her smile outshines them all.

"You know," she says softly, "in books, this would be the moment for a perfect first kiss."

I laugh. "Good thing we're living in reality then."

And as I draw her closer, I realize that sometimes reality is better than any story. Sometimes it's worth staying still long enough to let magic find you. Sometimes the best adventures aren't about where you're going, but who you're coming home to.

I lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away, but she meets me halfway. Her lips are soft against mine, and that first contact sends warmth spreading through my chest. The familiar scent of her—lavender and old books and something uniquely Grace—fills my senses. When her hand comes up to grip my shoulder, her touch steadies me even as it makes my pulse race. And as she sighs into the kiss, the sound undoes something tight and careful in my chest, replacing it with a certainty I've never known.

Around us, fireflies dance like stars fallen to earth, lighting our own private galaxy. And for the first time in my life, I don't feel the urge to measure or analyze or plan an escape.

I'm exactly where I need to be.

Epilogue

Grace

Juniper Falls, three months later…

---