Chapter 24 - The House Without Him
Five years after party, the house looked different.
Ramp rebuilt wider.
Garden moved closer to porch.
Gravel replaced with smooth path.
The patch of dirt where Brent dragged me became native grass.
Not memorial.
I planted nothing symbolic.
Nature did enough.
Dana came for dinner.
We ate outside.
She looked toward driveway.
“Remember…”
“No.”
She stopped.
“Fair.”
Then laughed.
We drank iced tea.
Ordinary.
That was the goal I did not know I had.
May you like
Not fearlessness.
Ordinary.
