Chapter 18
The lanterns on the main street flickered in the breeze and spilled circles across the dirt road. The concert was long over, but Jonas still carried Maeve’s voice with him. It had been so full of warmth and felt like coming home. Though he didn’t have a better word for it.
Maeve walked close by, her shawl loose around her shoulders, and her hair catching the light like fine copper. The air was cool but gentle, with stars scattered all over the sky.
They didn’t talk. Not for a while. Their hands brushed. First once, then again, then again. Every time it happened, Jonas felt a spark, tiny but strong, a quiet promise he was almost afraid to claim.
Out of nowhere, Maeve laughed, low and sweet.
“If you keep doing that, Jonas Webber, I might start thinking you’re trying to hold my hand.”
“I…I am,” Jonas’s breath tangled in his throat. He forced the words out.
She stopped, and so did he. He could hear his own heart racing.
“Then you should,” Maeve turned and looked straight at him. Her eyes caught the light, shining.
He hesitated just a second before sliding his hand into hers. She closed her fingers around his, and something inside him fell into place, reminding him of how a beam settled into the frame of a house.
They started walking again, hands linked, steps falling into an easy rhythm. Maeve began to hum a tune he’d heard earlier at the concert. The melody slipped through the quiet, drifting along the street. It felt like hope, and belonging.
Jonas listened, his heart tight and too full to hide it anymore.
“Maeve,” he whispered.
“Aye?” She lifted her face to him.
“I want to ask ya something,” he stopped again.
“Anything.”
“When we m-married…it was sudden,” he breathed in deep. “Ya needed a place. Ya n-needed safety, and I needed a helper to build with.”
He felt Maeve’s grip grow firmer.
“But n-now,” he said, “I want to build a life with ya. Not b-because ya have nowhere else. Not because yer s-scared.”
Maeve’s breath caught, the tiniest sound in the dark.
“I know I’m not b-bold,” Jonas swallowed, voice trembling. “I stutter. I’m quiet. But I’ll w-work every day to be someone you d-deserve. If you’ll let me.”
“Jonas,” she murmured. “Ya already are,” She stepped in, close enough for her free hand to find his cheek.
He just stared, stunned.
She smiled at him, soft and radiant, making his knees go loose.
“You stood up for me, and you spoke up when it mattered. You gave me my voice back. Jonas, you’ve shown me more kindness than I’ve ever known.”
He felt tears stinging and didn’t try to hide them.
“I choose you,” Maeve’s voice shook, full of feeling. “Not because I have to. Not from fear. Because you’re my home.”
Jonas let out a shaky breath, relief and happiness crashing through him so hard he almost swayed.
“Let’s build a life,” Maeve touched her forehead to his, a gentle promise. “For real. Because we want it.”
“Aye,” Jonas closed his eyes and let the words settle deep.
They stayed like that for a long, quiet moment. Then Maeve drew back, smiling bright.
“Walk me home, Jonas.”
He nodded. He couldn’t speak, as the words wouldn’t come.
They walked hand in hand. Maeve’s humming threaded into the night, soft and hopeful and new.
Jonas walked by her side, and the evening sun was soft and full of promise.
For once in his life, hope wasn’t all he had.
He was whole.