CHAPTER 10
1473 Words
The coffee shop smelled like old wood and fresh rain.
Hope sat in the corner. The same corner. The same orange juice. The same blueberry muffin she never touched.
But nothing else was the same.
It had been a year since David was released from prison. A year since he'd stood in this very coffee shop and told her he loved her. A year since he'd asked her to leave with him.
She'd said yes.
She'd meant it.
But life had other plans.
King was in high school now, growing taller every day, starting to look more like their father. Victory was in university, calling Hope every night to complain about her professors and her roommate and the terrible cafeteria food. Elijah was engaged to a sweet girl who worked at the local clinic, and Hope had never seen her brother so happy.
And Hope... Hope was still here.
She'd stayed.
Not because she didn't love David. She loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone.
But because her family needed her. Because King was still too young. Because Victory was still finding her way. Because Elijah was starting his own life and couldn't carry the weight alone.
So she'd stayed.
And David had understood.
He'd kissed her forehead and said, "I'll wait for you."
"David—"
"I'll wait. I've waited this long. I can wait a little longer."
"But your dream—"
"You're my dream. Everything else is just details."
She'd cried. He'd held her. And then he'd left.
Not forever. Just until she was ready.
He was in the city now, three hours away. He had a small apartment, a job at a music shop, and a band that played at a quiet jazz bar on weekends. He'd written to her every week. He'd called every night.
And she'd visited him every month.
But she hadn't left.
Not yet.
---
Hope took a sip of her orange juice. It was cold. Sweet. The same as it had always been.
She thought about the first time she'd seen David. The video. The song. The way his fingers moved across the keys.
She thought about the coffee shop. The way he'd held the door. The way he'd said her name.
She thought about The Lantern. The way he'd played her song. The way he'd looked at her like she was a song he was trying to remember.
She thought about his childhood home. The photo album. The broken boy who'd lost everything.
She thought about the man who'd saved her life. The man who'd given up everything to protect her.
She thought about the man who'd waited for her.
She pulled out her phone. Scrolled through old messages. The last one from David:
I miss you. I think about you every single day. When you're ready, I'll be here.
She closed her eyes.
She was ready.
But she was also scared.
Because leaving meant starting over. Leaving meant leaving her family. Leaving meant trusting that they'd be okay without her.
She opened her eyes. Looked at the phone.
I'm ready.
She typed it. Her thumb hovered over the send button.
Then she set the phone down.
---
She walked home.
The apartment was quiet. Elijah was at work. Victory was at university. King was at school.
She sat on the worn couch. The same couch she'd slept on for years. The same couch where King had fallen asleep with one shoe on. The same couch where she'd watched David's videos late at night.
She looked around the apartment. The cracked walls. The dripping faucet. The fan that whirred too loud.
This was her home.
But it wasn't her future.
She pulled out a piece of paper. Started writing.
---
Dear Elijah,
I'm leaving.
Not forever. Just for a while. I need to find myself. I need to figure out who I am outside of being your sister. Outside of being the one who holds everything together.
David is in the city. He has a life there. He's been waiting for me. And I think it's time I stopped being scared and started living.
I know you can handle things here. I know Victory will be fine. I know King will grow up and be amazing. I know you'll take care of them. That's who you are.
But I need to take care of myself too. Just for a little while.
I love you. I love all of you. And I'll be back. I promise.
—Hope
---
She folded the letter and left it on the kitchen table.
Then she packed a bag. Just one. Just enough.
She walked to the door. Her hand on the handle.
She stopped.
She turned around. Looked at the apartment one more time.
The worn couch. The cracked walls. The dripping faucet. The fan that whirred too loud.
Her home.
Her past.
She smiled.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For everything."
Then she walked out the door.
---
She didn't look back.
She got on the bus. The same bus that had taken her to the edge of town. The same bus that had taken her to the storage unit.
But this time, it was taking her somewhere new.
She watched the town disappear through the window. The coffee shop. The Lantern. The apartment. The life she'd built.
She wasn't leaving it behind.
She was carrying it with her.
The bus pulled into the city three hours later. David was waiting for her at the station.
He looked the same. Thinner, maybe. Older. But the same tired eyes. The same warm smile. The same way he looked at her like she was a song he was trying to remember.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she whispered.
"You came."
"I said I would."
"I know." He walked toward her. "I just didn't think you'd actually show up."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because you're scared. Because you're loyal. Because you never leave things behind."
She laughed. "You know me too well."
"Hope—"
"I'm not leaving things behind. I'm carrying them with me. My family. My home. My past. They're all part of me. But I'm ready for something new. I'm ready for you."
He reached out. Touched her face.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too."
"You're sure about this? You're sure you want to stay?"
"I'm sure."
He pulled her into his arms.
"Okay," he said. "Then let's start over. Together."
---
They walked to his apartment. A small place. Barely furnished. But there was a piano in the corner, and a guitar propped against the wall, and the warm glow of fairy lights strung across the ceiling.
It wasn't much.
But it was theirs.
"This is it," he said. "This is the life I built for us."
"It's perfect."
"It's not much."
"It's everything."
He smiled. "I'm going to play for you. Tonight. At the jazz bar. I want you to hear me play without fear. Without secrets. Just me."
She nodded. "I'd like that."
He took her hand. Led her to the door.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"I'm ready."
"For what?"
"For everything."
---
That night, Hope sat in the corner of a small jazz bar and watched David play.
He was different on stage now. Lighter. Freer. His fingers moved across the keys like they'd found their home.
He played her song.
"Love" by Keyshia Cole.
And this time, she didn't sing along.
This time, she just listened.
She thought about the first time she'd heard him play. The video. The grainy quality. The way she'd watched him from the back of her phone screen.
She thought about the coffee shop. The way he'd held the door. The way he'd said her name.
She thought about The Lantern. The way he'd played her song. The way he'd looked at her like she was a song he was trying to remember.
She thought about all the letters. All the visits. All the nights she'd stayed awake wondering if she was doing the right thing.
She thought about the woman she'd become.
And she smiled.
Because she was finally where she belonged.
---
The song ended. The crowd clapped. David stood up and walked toward her.
"Did you like it?" he asked.
"I loved it."
"I played it for you."
"I know."
"I'll always play it for you."
She reached out and took his hand.
"David," she said. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
He stared at her. "Are you serious?"
"I've never been more serious about anything."
He laughed. It was the same laugh. The one that made her heart skip.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too."
He kissed her. Soft. Sweet. Full of hope.
And for the first time in her life, Hope knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
- Writer
