Page 106 of What Remains

Jay looked toward the house once more. "I remember that feeling."

She slipped her hand into his. "When?"

"The first time I saw you smile after everything."

Cara rested her head against his shoulder. "You think they will?"

Jay watched Seth through the window one last time. The man sat listening to Layla with complete attention, smiling at something she'd said while Josie looked on with quiet affection.

"If anyone deserves a second chance..." His voice nearly vanished into the cold morning air. "...it's those two."

Seth stood at the edge of the bed, folding his last spare shirt into his pack. Each item was a familiar weight: socks, a sharpening stone, the clothes he'd worn for months. Everything had its place, a logic he clung to because it was the only thing that made sense when his own chest felt so gutted.

He cinched one strap tight, then paused, his hands resting on the canvas bag.

Just stay.

The word was a physical blow, loud enough to drown out a week's worth of logic. Stay. Images flood through him: waking up beside Josie, Layla laughing as she gathered eggs, the simple work of mending a fence in the cold sun. A whole life, right here, waiting to be lived. A life that wasn't his.

His jaw flexed. He couldn't—no matter how badly every selfish part of him wanted to.

A soft knock barely brushed the door before it opened, and Josie slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her. Neither of them spoke. The silence between them had long since stopped being awkward; it had become familiar, comfortable. Dangerous.

Seth looked back down at his bag, pretending to adjust a buckle already fastened.

"You came to make sure I packed?" he asked, forcing a crooked smile.

She leaned against the closed door, arms folded loosely across her chest. "I came to make sure you didn't sneak out without saying goodbye."

His smile faltered. "I wasn't going to."

"I know."

Another silence settled over them before she crossed the room slowly and stopped beside him.

"So..." she whispered.

"So."

She glanced at the half-packed bag, then back at him. "You really have to go." Not a question.

Seth's chin dipped once. "Yeah."

She swallowed hard. "I guess I knew the answer before I asked."

He let out a quiet breath. "I have people waiting for me. I promised I'd come back to them."

"I know."

"But..." His voice caught.

"But?"

He met her eyes. "I wish I didn't have to."

The words settled in the air between them enough to make her eyes glisten. She reached for him first, her fingers slipping into his hand and fitting there so naturally it seemed unfair.

"I've spent a long time convincing myself not to need people," she admitted. "It came easier that way."