Chapter 2 - Midnight Storms
813 Words
Over the next week, Ally settled into a routine. Mornings were spent driving her father to appointments and organizing paperwork he’d neglected. Afternoons she tackled the house clearing weeds from the garden, sorting through boxes in the attic.
In one dusty carton, she found old photographs. Her mother was laughing in the kitchen. Her father is younger, stronger. Joel at eighteen, grinning with his arm slung around her shoulders, her chest tightened, thinking of what could have been if she hadn’t died.
She sat cross legged on the attic floor and let the memories wash over her.
Her phone buzzed an email from her firm. A new project proposal. A reminder that the city continued without her.
That evening, she drove to the edge of town and parked near the old quarry. The water shimmered under the setting sun. When it was dry they would run along the base of it, playing games, doing silly things, even getting their skateboards out for hours until the old sheriff came along and ushered them home.
An hour went by, a low hum sounded as Joel’s truck pulled up beside her.
“Your dad said you went for a drive,” he said, stepping out.
“Is there anything he doesn’t report to you?”
Joel chuckled. “Not much.”
They sat on the hood of her car, watching the sky turn pink and gold.
“I almost got married,” Ally blurted.
Joel’s expression didn’t change, but his hand stilled against the metal. “Almost?”
“It didn’t feel right. He was… good. Successful. Kind. But when he talked about our future, it felt like reading someone else’s blueprint.”
Joel looked at her then, really looked at her. “What does your blueprint look like now?”
She swallowed. “I don’t know anymore.” she sighed.
The admission scared her more than she expected.
“You don’t have to decide everything at once,” he said. “You never did.”
She laughed softly. “That’s easy for you to say. You always seemed so sure.”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I just chose. I chose to build here. To stay close to my family. To make something steady.”
“And are you happy?”
He considered. “Most days,” he shrugged.
Most days. The honesty of it moved her.
~
A storm rolled in that night, fierce and sudden. Wind howled through the trees, rain hammering the tin roof.
Ally woke to a crash.
She rushed downstairs, no time to put on a dress robe, only to find water pooling on the kitchen floor. A section of ceiling had given way, plaster scattered across the tiles.
Her father stood helplessly in the doorway.
“It’s been leaking for months,” he confessed over the roar of rain.
“Dad!” she started to scold him.
Before she could grab a bucket, headlights flashed through the window.
Joel. Her heart stopped for a small second, how had he known…
He burst through the back door with a toolbox and tarp. “Heard the thunder. Figured this place might need help.”
“Your mum, ok?” Ally asks quickly.
Joel nods, “yeah, she’s away this week at her sisters”
For the next hour, they worked side by side, catching drips, securing temporary patches.
Joel climbed onto the roof despite the rain, shouting instructions down to her.
When the storm finally eased, the kitchen was a mess but contained, and would last till morning.
Her father had retreated to bed, exhausted, nodding a thanks to the both of them.
Ally and Joel stood in the dim light, soaked and breathing hard.
“You didn’t have to come,” she said, rubbing her arms with exhaustion, the small sensation bringing a little comfort. The old kitchen clock chiming at 2am.
“Yeah, I did, you know I did.” he mumbled, twisting the wet towel in his hands.
Water dripped from his hair onto his collar. Without thinking, she reached up to brush it away.
The touch lingered, burned like a small comfort.
Five years collapsed into a single heartbeat. Comfortability, familiarity.
“Ally,” he murmured, her name heavy with history.
She closed the distance first.
The kiss was different from when they were seventeen. Slower. Weighted with everything they’d learned and lost.
When they finally pulled apart, the world felt quieter.
“I don’t want to be your almost,” Joel said softly. “If we try this again, it’s because you’re choosing it. Not because you’re here temporarily. Not because it’s easy.”
She rested her forehead against his. “It’s never been easy with you.”
A hint of a smile. “Good.” a low chuckle he wraps his arms around her tightly. “Where’s the fun in that…”
- Writer
