“I’m sorry! I won’t tell anyone else,” Mike said with a shrug and a laugh that shook the walls.
He lingered a while, caught up on the story, then headed back to the bar—glancing back every so often, grinning like a proud older brother. Because that’s what Mike was. Not by blood, but by bond.
Just as their food arrived, the door swung open again. Carter and Trevor walked in, immediately clocking Jaxon at the table—with a woman and a kid.
They made their way over, jaws nearly hitting the floor.
“Sara?”
“Damn, it’s been a while,” Trevor said. “What are you doing here?”
Before she could answer, Carter interrupted, “Wait—you have a daughter?! Congrats! We didn’t even know—”
“Man, that’s Jaxon’s daughter,” Mike hollered from the bar again.
Carter and Trevor froze. “Wait... what?!”
Jaxon sighed and explained—again. But as he spoke about Claire, keeping his voice low for Jaqueline’s sake, their laughter faded. Their expressions shifted from confusion to heartbreak. It didn’t matter how long it had been—they were his boys. And they felt it with him.
After they left, Sara reached across the table and touched his hand.
“I’m glad y’all are still close.”
“We’ve been through it all—celebrated the highs and drowned the lows in whiskey and silence. They’re my brothers.”
The four-top table is now empty as they make their way back to Jaxon’s truck. As they hop in and shut the door, Jaqueline tilts her head and asks, “What is The Point?”
Jaxon laughs softly before answering, his heart tugging at the memory. “Your mom asked me that same question a long time ago.”
“She did?” Jaqueline’s voice is filled with wonder.
“Yes,” Sara answers, her voice gentle. “She did. Those same exact words.”
Jaxon glances into the rearview mirror and catches the smile on Jaqueline’s face—the one that looks just like Claire’s. It’s disarming. Beautiful. Eerie in the best kind of way. As they pull into the gravel drive, his chest tightens. This place. This memory. This moment. It all feels like stepping into a time capsule that’s been waiting for them to arrive.
When the truck parks and the doors open, Jaqueline bounces out, her mouth running a mile a minute. She’s got a question for everything—“What was it like back then?” “What did Mom wear?” “Did she laugh like me?” “Did she walk on this side?”—and both Jaxon and Sara do their best to keep up, their answers gentle, tinged with the ache of what once was.
As they arrive at the old firepit, Sara slows to a stop and exhales. “I can’t believe the logs aren’t here anymore.”
“Yeah,” Jaxon says, staring at the space that once held laughter, kisses, and confessions. “Even though we took care of things, the city doesn’t allow fires out here anymore.”
A breeze carries the sound of waves rolling in, and Jaxon turns toward the ocean, eyes distant.
He points. “Jaq… your mom and I went for a walk that night. A long one. We talked. Got to know each other in a way most people never do.”
“Can we do that?” she interrupts, eyes wide.
“As long as you’re okay with a long walk.” He smiles as he holds out his hand.
Jaqueline doesn’t hesitate. She slips her small hand into his without a second thought.
And just like that… everything changes.
Sara stays behind for a moment, her throat tight, watching as father and daughter start down the beach, side by side, hearts slowly stitching something beautiful between them. She lets them walk ahead—this is their moment. And she doesn’t want to steal it.
“Come on, Aunt Sara! You gotta keep up!” Jaqueline calls back with a laugh.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sara replies, wiping her eyes before jogging forward, her heart breaking and healing all at once.
