A country isn’t the only thing I’m leaving behind.
Violet.
Our goodbye is going to sit with me for a long time. Not because I question leaving—but because she made it so damn hard to go. She held on, her fingers digging in, her cheek pressed to mine.
I didn’t cry as I was leaving. Neither did she. But I haven’t stopped feeling it since––the ache of being loved to that degree and the quiet grief of walking away from it. That chapter’s closed, but even knowing I made the right choice, it still hurts.
There’s a hollow ache in my chest as we pull into the Sebring driveway. This is the trade-off. Not a loss but a shift. I’m stepping into the rest of my life.
The front door barely clicks open before Malie’s arms are around me, her cheek pressed to mine.
“You’re home, lo’u afafine,” she whispers.
Lo’u afafine. Not palagi.
“Lo’u afafine?”
“My daughter,” Alex says, translating the Samoan words for me.
Something inside me wobbles, then settles. It’s as though my heart has found a place to rest.
Not tolerated. Not temporary. Chosen.
Emotion rises in my throat. “I’m so happy to be here. For good, this time, Tina.”
Her breath catches, and she presses a hand to her chest, eyes glistening.
She pulls me in again, holding tight. “You are ours now. Always.”
And for the first time in my life, I believe it.
Alexander pulls me in tight, a bottle of wine in his hand. “Welcome home, Magnolia.”
“Thank you.”
He lifts the bottle of wine. “I think we should celebrate the best decision Alex has ever made.”
Elias barrels in like a human golden retriever, all joy and zero brakes. He scoops me up in a bear hug that lifts me off the floor. “My teine is home!” he says, spinning me in a full circle before setting me down with a grin that lights up the whole room.
“Be bloody careful with her, Elias. That’s my missus you’re slinging ’round like a sack of spuds.”
“I reckon she’s all right. I’m just giving my teine a proper welcome back.”
It’s chaos. Beautiful, ordinary chaos. Voices overlap. Someone turns on the music. Malie’s already offering me food. Alex is laughing with Elias in the background, and I stand there for a second, trying to take it all in.
Alex’s hand lands on the small of my back. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod, swallowing the emotions caught in my throat. “I’m finally home.”
Malie waves me toward the kitchen. “Tears are allowed but only if you’re holding panikeke in one hand and a proper drink in the other.”
Panikeke—Malie’s famous banana fritters. Sweet, golden, bite-sized pieces of heaven.
“Yes, please,” I say, already reaching for the plate she’s loaded down with enough fritters for a small army.
Malie gives me a sly smile. “This table is getting bigger now. That’s how I like it. More room for the people we love.”
I glance toward the dining table, extra leaf locked in place, and a new chair added. It almost knocks the wind out of me.
