This just explains why it always felt right.”
Mia smiled. “Dad, you’re the best.”
The tension eased.
“We were scared,” one of them said.
“We were scared.”
We moved to the living room.
Mia sat beside me.
She leaned on my shoulder.
“You ever wonder what would’ve happened?”
“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if she told you back then?”
“I used to.”
“And now?”
“Now I think we ended up where we were meant to be.”
She smiled.
“I like that answer.”
Later, dessert came out.
“You didn’t think we’d come empty-handed?”
“Wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you.”
We laughed.
Then someone asked, “What now?”
I looked at them.
“We keep going.”
I looked at all nine of them.
Later that night, I sat at the table.
Charlotte’s letter in my hands.
For years, I thought our story had ended.
But it hadn’t.
It led back here.
I smiled.
I thought our story had ended without closure.
“You talking to Mom again?” Mia asked.
“Something like that.”
“Talking to Mom again?”
She sat down.
“She used to talk about you.”
“She did?”
“She said you understood her.”
“Sounds like her.”
“She was right,” Mia said.
“About what?”
“About you.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t need to.
The next morning, I sent a message:
“Breakfast next Sunday. No excuses.”
Replies came instantly.
I smiled.
For the first time in a long time, nothing felt missing anymore.