That evening, Grant and I sat on Aunt May’s porch watching orange and pink light spread across the water.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Free.”
He squeezed my hand.
“I’ve been thinking about staying here permanently.”
“Only thinking?”
“It depends on whether I have a reason.”
I smiled.
“You might.”
Six months later, we purchased a small house together. Both our names appeared on every document because neither of us believed partnership required one person to disappear.
Aunt May moved in with us, claiming her house had become too difficult to maintain. Grant and I started a security-consulting business that combined his investigative experience with the strength I had discovered in myself.
Years later, Kyle contacted me one final time. He told me he had remarried and was learning to set boundaries with his brothers.
I was genuinely pleased for him.
Healing allowed me to hope he became better without needing to participate in that transformation.
