“She’s… not Luke’s, is she?”
Laura looked down, her hands folded in her lap. “No. Her father’s someone I met a few months before the wedding.
“Knew what?”
“That I loved him.
That I couldn’t marry Luke. Not like that. I tried to talk myself into staying, but… it didn’t feel right.
So I ran.”
“You married him?”
She nodded. “We’re good. He’s a kind man.
He loves Maddie like she’s gold.”
We sat in the heat of the afternoon, cicadas buzzing like an old engine. “I couldn’t face the shame,” Laura said quietly. “I couldn’t face Luke.
I looked at her. “You didn’t do it out of shame.
You did it out of love. And sometimes… love doesn’t follow the rules.”
When I got home, the sun was setting behind the barn, casting everything in a warm, orange glow. Mama sat on the porch swing, just like she used to before everything changed.
Her hands were folded in her lap, and the cushions beside her were faded from years of sun and weather. She looked up when she saw me walking down the path, her eyes searching my face the way they always did when she was hoping for good news. “Well?” she asked softly.
Her voice held a mix of hope and fear. “Did you find her?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded once, then shook my head. “No sign of her,” I said quietly.
Mama looked down at her hands and gave a slow, tired nod. “Maybe that’s for the best,” she murmured. Neither of us said anything more.
In my hand was the letter—Laura’s letter. Her truth, written in slanted handwriting, still smudged from my fingers. I read the first few lines again.
Then I folded it carefully and lit a match. The paper caught quickly. The flame danced orange and gold, curling the edges until her words disappeared into smoke.
I watched every corner blacken and fall to ash. Some things are meant to stay in the past. Laura had built a life.Continue reading…
