Chapter 102

Lila’s POV

It was the cool of the evening and I sat curled into the corner of the couch in my parent's living room. My legs were tucked under me while a mug of water rested loosely in my hand. The television was on, the volume low, playing some old rerun that I wasn’t really watching. My gaze drifted between the flickering light of the screen and the slow dance of shadows that stretched across the carpet.

It was the kind of silence that didn’t feel empty. It felt lived in and comfortable, like the house itself was breathing softly around me. Soon my parents would be back and that gave me something to look forward to.

I lifted the mug and took a small sip of water, the coolness rolling across my tongue. It was something to do with my hands, a distraction from the wandering thoughts that kept circling back to the walk I had taken earlier. The laughter of children, the scent of bread, the sight of familiar streets and Daniel. His face, his voice, the way time had not erased the memory of him. I shook the thought off, scolding myself for letting it linger longer than it should.

Then, the distant rumble of an engine reached my ears. My chest warmed instantly. My mom’s car.

I set the mug aside quickly and stood, smoothing down the folds of my dress. My heart picked up, a strange mix of excitement and comfort. I had not felt this kind of eagerness in such a long time, eagerness to greet someone, to welcome them home.

By the time the headlights swept across the window, I was already at the door, fingers curled around the handle. The crunch of tires against gravel grew louder, followed by the familiar sound of the car door shutting. I opened the door just as my mom stepped out, her arms full with a grocery bag, her face tired but still carrying that soft smile she always wore when she saw me.

“Mom!” I called, hurrying forward.

She barely had time to put the bag down before I wrapped my arms around her. The scent of citrus clung to her clothes, fresh and familiar, and for a moment, I just held her.

“My baby,” she whispered against my hair, holding me tight.

I pulled back just enough to hug my dad too, who was stepping in with another bag slung easily in one hand. He patted my back with his usual mix of firmness and gentleness.

“And how’s our favorite child today?” he asked, a teasing smile curving his lips.

I grinned, deciding to play along. “I am your favorite child because I am your only child.”

They both laughed, the sound wrapping around me like music I had missed without realizing.

“We will take it,” Dad said, shaking his head as he moved toward the kitchen with the bag.

Mom squeezed my hand as she looked at me, her eyes scanning my face with the kind of attention that always seemed to see more than I wanted to reveal. “You look different, Lila,” she said softly. “More radiant.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Do I?”

“Yes,” she insisted, her smile tender. “Tell me, how was your day?”

I exhaled, suddenly aware of how full the day had felt despite its quietness. “It was… strange but in a good way,” I began. “I took a walk around town, and I noticed so many changes. The bakery has a new sign, but the smell is still the same. The streets look newer and brighter. And the houses were repainted now with cheerful colors giving more life to the town.

It was like walking through a place that had grown up but still carried pieces of the past and it brought back so many memories, Mom. Playing near the oak tree, tugging on your skirt at the market, scribbling my dreams on the park bench. I didn’t realize how much I missed it all until I saw it again.”

As I spoke, my father returned from setting the bags down and caught the end of my words. He nodded, his expression was steady but soft. “And you will always have this, Lila,” he said firmly. “No matter what happens out there, this town, this house, it will always be your safe haven.”

The words landed deep in me, so much so that I had to blink back the sudden sting in my eyes. Safe haven. That was exactly what this place felt like.

But before the silence stretched too far, I remembered Daniel. The memory of his smile, his easy voice. I turned to my mom. “Oh, I forgot to mention, I ran into Daniel today. Do you remember him?”

Her eyebrows lifted with recognition. “Of course. Daniel. Yes, he has been around for a while now.”

Dad had picked up another bag and started toward the hallway, leaving us with a little space.

I tilted my head, curiosity prickling. “Really? I thought he left and never came back.”

My mom sighed, her smile shifting into something more wistful. “He did leave. He built a life for himself in the city, got married even but life hasn’t been kind to him. His wife… she passed away while giving birth to their child.”

The words struck me like a stone. My breath caught. “What?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes heavy with sympathy. “Yes. It was devastating for him. And not long after, when he was still trying to put himself back together, his mother, my beloved friend passed too. She had been helping him take care of the baby.

So he was left with his son, grieving and lost. He moved back here because he needed somewhere familiar, somewhere steady. He has been raising his boy on his own ever since and whenever we are around we help him look after the boy so he can handle his business.”

I sank into the nearest chair, the shock still settling over me. Daniel, the boy who once shared lemonade summers and block parties with me, now a man who had carried so much loss.

Mom’s voice softened further. “It hasn’t been easy for him, but he has been trying. Slowly, he is finding his way again. He is working, caring for his son, and most importantly he is healing.”

For a moment, I couldn’t find words. My chest ached for him, for what he must have felt, burying a wife, then a mother, while holding a newborn in his arms.

“He has been through so much,” Mom continued gently. “But like I said he is coming around these days. And maybe now, you two could be friends. You played together as children, perhaps as adults, you could help each other through difficult times too.”

I shifted uncomfortably, forcing a small shrug. “We weren’t even that close back then, Mom. We were just two kids thrown together because you and his mom were friends. It doesn’t mean anything now.”

She studied me for a moment, her expression calm, but her eyes seemed to hold something I couldn’t quite read. Finally, she smiled, letting it go. “Alright, my love. I was only suggesting. It won’t hurt to have a friend now that you are around.”

Then, with a brisk clap of her hands, she lightened the mood. “Come on, let’s start on dinner. You can help me chop vegetables.”

Relieved for the change in subject, I nodded and followed her into the kitchen. The familiar clatter of pots, the warm smell of onions hitting hot oil, and the gentle chatter between us filled the space. My dad drifted in now and then to sneak a taste, earning playful swats from my mom.

And though I laughed, though the moment was peaceful, Daniel’s story lingered at the edges of my mind.

A widower. A father. A man who had endured so much loss yet still managed to stand.

I tried to push the thought away, tried to convince myself it didn’t matter. But later, as I sliced vegetables under the glow of the kitchen light, I couldn’t help but wonder if our paths crossed again for a reason.

I mean I could use a friend now like mom said but after Max's betrayal and Drew’s coldness, I wasn't so sure if I was ready for any form of entanglement. But then I guess we could wait and see where it all leads.