Ten
Danae
The morning I leave Salemburg, my heart feels heavy. Not empty, no, I have family that keeps my life full of love. But all good things always come to an end right? And this is the end of my trip. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back here, but I know I need to make these time outs a priority. Three weeks came and went before I could even wrap my head around it all.
And this isn’t just about seeing Miles. I enjoyed the break. Being a full-time nurse and full-time caregiver at home, there is no time for me to simply breathe. My time here in Salemburg has allowed me to release the pressure and stress for these few weeks and reset. I feel energized and ready to get back to my life in Arkansas even if it is taxing emotionally and physically at times.
Journey is asleep against my chest as I sit on the couch, her tiny fist curled into the fabric of my shirt. She’s heavier now than she was a week ago, and gained steadily since her birth. Or maybe I just notice it more, aware that soon I won’t feel this weight every night. It’s been a special time for me to have with her and give Josie time to sleep and heal. Post partum is hard on a body and the hormone changes make emotions high before adding in sleep deprivation from feeding a newborn.
Josie watches us from the doorway, coffee mug cradled in both hands. “You’re really leaving,” she says, like she might still talk me out of it.
“I have to,” I reply softly. “Work. Papa.”
“I know.” She sighs. “I just wish you didn’t. I want to keep you with me and I know Papa needs you more and moving him wouldn’t be fair.”
I press a kiss to Journey’s perfectly round baby head and carefully transfer her back into Josie’s arms. The moment stretches longer than it needs to, my hands lingering like I’m imprinting the feel of her.
“I’ll be back,” I state more as a promise to myself. “Soon.”
Josie smiles, eyes shiny. “You better be.”
Raff loads my bag into my rental while Justice bounces around the driveway, already launching into stories about school and his sister like nothing could ever be wrong again.
“You’re gonna visit?” he asks, eyes wide and hopeful.
“Absolutely,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t miss watching you teach her how to be trouble for anything.”
He grins. “I’m really good at that.”
Miles doesn’t say much. He stands a few steps back, hands in his pockets, watching like he’s trying to memorize the moment. When our eyes meet, something quiet and steady passes between us—no panic, no promises we can’t keep.
Just knowing.
When it’s time, he pulls me into a hug that lingers a second longer than it should, his mouth brushing my temple.
“Call me when you land,” he murmurs.
“I will.”
“And Danae?”
“Yeah?”
“This isn’t a goodbye.”
I swallow. “I know.”
The drive to the airport feels longer than it did on the way in. My chest aches with a strange mix of fullness and loss, like I’ve borrowed a life that fit too well and now I have to put it back.
On the plane, I watch North Carolina disappear beneath the clouds and wonder how a place I never meant to love managed to claim such a deep piece of me.
Home doesn’t feel the same when I get back. It’s familiar—too familiar. The same creak in the hallway, the same faint medicinal smell clinging to the air. Papa is waiting in his bed when I walk in, eyes lighting up with recognition that feels like a gift and a curse. I love him. I love caring for him. But the weight of it is heavy.
“You’re back,” he says.
“I am,” I reply, kneeling in front of him. “Did you miss me?”
He smiles. “I knew you’d come back.” That night, after I help him settle and tuck myself into my own bed, my phone buzzes.
