Claire chuckled, then bumped her shoulder lightly against his. "Good thing we’re both ghostbusters."
Jack laughed, the sound low and genuine. "Team effort, then."
They kept walking, the silence no longer heavy, but restful—like they were both finally learning to breathe at the same rhythm. Claire let the hush settle between them before glancing sideways. "Do you remember that time at the beach, when Chloe and Gabe built a lopsided sandcastle?" she asked.
Jack smiled. "The one Chloe insisted was a sea turtle and not a blob?"
"Exactly," Claire said, laughing. "I think about that sometimes. It was simple. Easy."
Jack nodded. "It was a good day. I want more of those."
"Then let's keep making them," she said softly, her voice barely louder than the breeze.
"You know," he said after a while, "Chloe asked me last night if we could be a forever family. You, me, Gabe... all of us."
Claire blinked, caught off guard by the lump rising in her throat. "She said that?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"What did you say?"
Jack smiled faintly. "I told her it sounded pretty wonderful."
Claire felt her chest expand with something warm, tender, and a little bit terrifying.
"You know what I think?" she asked.
"What?"
"I think she has good taste."
He laughed, the sound light and genuine.
They reached the corner, the sidewalk opening into the small park beside the marina. Claire stopped and looked up at him.
"I don’t need all the answers today, Jack. I just needed to know you’re still walking beside me."
"I am," he said. "Even when I get stuck in my head, I’m not walking away."
Claire smiled, her heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and quiet courage, the breeze catching the loose strands of her hair. For a moment, neither of them moved, the salty breeze tugging at her hair, the sounds of the town falling away.
She saw the hesitation in Jack’s eyes—the flicker of something deeper he wasn’t quite saying—and felt her own pulse quicken. Before she could second-guess herself, Claire rose onto her toes, brushing a light, tentative kiss against his cheek.
Jack stilled, the warmth of her gesture lingering in the cool morning air. Slowly, almost cautiously, he turned his head toward her, his hand finding her waist with a hesitancy that made her heart ache. Their eyes met—searching, questioning, both daring to hope—and then, without another word, Jack dipped his head and kissed her.
It was feather-light at first, a cautious brush of lips, carrying the tentative hope of second chances. Claire's fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt, grounding herself in the sweetness of the moment. Jack pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing the same fragile, stolen breath.
Neither of them rushed to fill the silence. They didn’t need to.
The kiss hadn’t been perfect or planned. But it was real.
And real was enough.
They lingered there a moment longer, hearts steady and trembling all at once, before parting with reluctant smiles. They each turned down separate paths, but Claire knew the steps between them had never been stronger.
As she walked back to her car, a tangle of new hope bloomed inside her—but even hope carried shadows, and her thoughts drifted briefly to the envelope Derek had left on her porch a few days earlier. It wasn’t just any note. Inside had been a handwritten letter, clumsy and insistent, demanding for shared weekends and holidays with Gabe—as if time could simply be rewound.
Claire’s heart had twisted at the casual audacity of it, the way Derek treated years of absence like an inconvenience to be brushed aside. Gabe wasn’t a weekend project. He was a boy who needed patience, consistency—and love that didn't come with conditions. A dull thud settled in her chest as she thought about the difficult conversation ahead. Derek wanted more time, but Gabe barely knew him. She needed to find a way forward—one that protected her son’s heart as fiercely as her own.
