“I’m just on a break,” I insisted. But we both knew how uncertain everything felt.
Later that evening, the doorbell rang. To my surprise, it was Jade—an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. She held a casserole and a cautious smile. “Mom saw you come in. We thought you two might need something warm to eat.”
Just then, a small girl peeked from behind her legs—a child with Jade’s same warm eyes. “This is Lila,” Jade said softly. “Say hi to Wyatt.”
I knelt down. “What’s your bunny’s name?” I asked.
“Muffin,” she whispered, hugging it tight.
Jade and Lila came in, and just like that, the house felt a little less quiet.
Grandpa worried about me more than I let on. “You were so close to graduating,” he reminded me. “What happens after I’m gone?” I tried to reassure him. I said I had found a part-time job, though in truth, I was still looking.
That night on the porch, I told Jade the truth. “I haven’t found work yet,” I admitted.
She nodded. “Lila’s in school during the day, and I’m not working right now. I can keep Grandpa company while you job hunt.”
Her offer stunned me—and gave me a little hope.
Under starlit skies, we talked about our dreams and how life had taken unexpected turns. We shared stories of starting over, and slowly, the space between us began to feel like something new.
Then one afternoon, I came home and heard a sound from Grandpa’s room. He’d tried to get up on his own. I helped him back to bed, worried by how tired he looked.
“I’m okay,” he said, smiling faintly. “Just a little worn out.”
Later, Jade placed a comforting hand on my arm. “He’s resting now. So should you.”
Lila handed me a crayon drawing—stick figures under a blue sky. “It’s us,” she said. “And Grandpa.”
Three days later, I got a call for a job interview at a nearby rehabilitation center. It was on the same day as Grandpa’s checkup. Without hesitation, Jade offered to take him. “You need this,” she said.
When I came home, Jade said softly, “He’s tired, but he made it through the appointment.” I found Grandpa by the window, watching birds in the garden he loved. We sat in silence, surrounded by peace.
The next day, he quietly passed away in that same chair, a gentle expression on his face. I held his hand, tears falling freely as I said goodbye.
After the funeral, I found a letter on his bedside table:
“Kiddo,
You made me proud every single day.
Now it’s your turn—live fully. Chase your dreams. And remember, I’m always with you.
Go live—for both of us.
Love, Pops.”
His words stayed with me. I tucked the letter into my wallet and called the rehab center. I accepted the job.
A week later, Jade invited me to dinner at her parents’ house. The warmth of that evening—the food, Lila’s laughter, and the sound of people just being together—made something inside me begin to heal.
Later, while we washed dishes together, I said, “For the first time in a long while, I’m not waiting for something bad to happen.”
She smiled. “Maybe it’s time to stop waiting—and start building something new.”
In that moment, we leaned in and shared a quiet, meaningful kiss. Lila’s giggle broke the moment, and we laughed, knowing something had changed.
No, life didn’t go as planned. But maybe—just maybe—it turned out exactly how it was meant to.