Page 87 of The Maine Event

“It’s about time, Dad,” she says, her tone teasing but her eyes shining with affection. “We’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

Dan laughs, a sound of pure, unbridled happiness. He opens his arms, and Chloe and I fall into them, the three of us clinging to each other as the audience erupts into whoops and cheers.

I hear the applause like it’s underwater, a distant roar that barely registers. The lights above are warm, golden, and suddenly this place doesn’t feel like someone else’s story. It feels like a stage we’ve claimed for ourselves. For something unscripted. Something true.

The three of us stand there, holding each other tight, as the studio audience rises to their feet in a standing ovation. There’s not a dry eye in the house. The air is charged with an electricity that has nothing to do with the bright stage lights.

In that moment, everything else falls away. The cameras, the crew, the curious onlookers—none of it matters. All that exists is the three of us, finally, blessedly whole.

“I love you,” I say into Dan’s chest, my tears soaking his shirt. “I love you so much.”

He kisses the top of my head, his arms tightening around us. “I love you too,” he says. “Both of you. Forever and always.”

And there, in the warmth of our embrace, I feel a piece of my heart slot into place. A piece I hadn’t even realized was missing.

We have a long road ahead of us, I know. Some hurt and misunderstandings to unpack, wounds to heal and bridges to mend.

But for now, in this perfect, shining moment, none of that matters. All that matters is that we’re together.

The director throws his hands up in frustration, his face a mask of disbelief. I catch a glimpse of him gesticulating wildly at the crew, but the cameramen just grin and keep filming, their lenses trained on us like we’re the most fascinating thing they’ve ever seen.

And maybe we are.

Maybe this moment, this raw, unscripted display of love and forgiveness, is the most real thing to ever grace this stage.

For years, I believed success meant sacrifice. That you could either build something or feel something—but never both. But maybe the real work is choosing people, choosing love, even when it’s terrifying. Maybe I don’t have to choose between being whole and being driven. Maybe the person I’m becoming can be both.

I can see our image playing out on the studio monitors. Will they broadcast this to viewers across the country? The big-city PR exec, wrapped in the arms of a small-town single dad and his precious daughter.

It’s not the story I would have written for myself.

But as the audience applause continues, as Dan and Chloe pull back slightly to beam at me with identical watery smiles, I realize it’s a better story than I ever could have imagined.

We stand there together, basking in the warmth of the moment. The studio fades away, the audience, the cameras, all of it.

In this instant, there is only us.

The director’s voice rises above the commotion, calling for a cut. The spell breaks, reality rushing back in, but the glow of the moment lingers.

I blink, taking in the sea of faces, the applause still reverberating through the studio. Hundreds of eyes are fixed on us, some misty with emotion, others wide with astonishment.

“Well, folks,” the Assistant Director chuckles, stepping onto the stage, “that wasn’t in the script, but I kind of wish it was.”

Laughter ripples through the audience, warm and good-natured. I feel my lips curve into a smile, a bubble of joy expanding in my chest.

“Now if you don’t mind, we’ve got an episode to film.”

TWENTY-THREE

The energy inside the Ogunquit Playhouse is electric as Dan and I push through the doors. Crowds of excited parents and kids fill the lobby, chattering and laughing.

“Wow, what a turnout!” Dan says, his eyes wide as he takes it all in. “Chloe is going to be thrilled to have us cheering her on.”

I nod, smiling at the thought. “She’s worked so hard for this.”

As we make our way through the throng to find our seats, I feel my phone buzz in my purse. Fishing it out, I see Jonathan Harcourt’s name flash across the screen. My stomach clenches. What could he possibly want now, right when I’m about to watch Chloe’s big moment?

I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the answer button. Dan notices and raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Everything okay?”

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