That’s all it takes.
Sara breaks. Quietly. Violently. Like glass under pressure. Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Just the rush of breath that carries every unspoken ache with it.
“Sweetie,” she finally says, her voice trembling, “he’s not going anywhere.”
“I hope not,” Jaq whispers. “I just got my daddy.”
That’s when the tears come—hot, unstoppable. Sara wipes her cheek, but it’s useless. Jaq isn’t just breaking her heart—she’s holding it in her little hands and asking her to be brave with it.
“I know, baby,” Sara manages.
“I like his house. And my room.”
“I did too,” she whispers. “It was… really nice.”
Then comes the final blow.
“Can that be our home?”
Sara’s foot lifts slightly from the gas. Her fingers twitch on the wheel. Her heart is pounding so loudly she’s surprised Jaq can’t hear it.
Her mind flashes—Catherine’s words, Jaxon’s pleas, the porch, the storm, the way his hand curled instinctively around hers like it had always belonged there. How he said he didn’t want to lose them. How he looked when she walked away.
He fought like hell. And I left anyway.
Her eyes lock on the upcoming sign: Exit 82. The last one before the mess of Columbia traffic.
She doesn’t think. She feels.
The blinker flicks.
The wheel turns.
And the car veers onto the off-ramp, tires crunching gravel as she pulls into a makeshift truck lot just off the shoulder. Dust rises in the afternoon light.
Sara turns in her seat to look at the only person whose opinion matters right now.
“Do you want that house to be your home, sweetie?”
Jaq nods without hesitation. “We’re a family. I want it to be your home too, Mommy.”
And that’s it.
That’s the moment Sara knows.
Not just what she wants—but what she won’t survive without.
She turns back toward the windshield, eyes heavy, but heart suddenly weightless. The argument she and Jaxon had replays in her mind—but this time, she hears it differently.
We’re the house, Sara. The storm’s coming. You don’t run—you stand and fight.
She left.
But she doesn't have to stay gone.
“Where the tide meets the sand…” It wasn’t just a poetic phrase.
It was him. Begging her to choose the place where love softens the jagged edges. Where forgiveness outweighs fear. Where the past is left to drift out with the tide, and the future is built one wave at a time.
