Chapter Twenty-One
READING THE SIGNS
Andi
The grass is damp beneath my sneakers as I walk between the headstones, hands stuffed in the pockets of my hoodie. I come here when I need to breathe. When I need to remember that I’m not as alone as I sometimes feel.
Their names are etched into the granite, familiar and foreign all at once.
James and Clara Callahan.
I sink to a crouch, brushing away a few stray leaves, my throat tight. “Hey,” I murmur. “It’s been a while.”
I brush my fingers over the smooth stone, tracing the dates I know by heart. “I don’t even know what you’d say if you were here,” I whisper. “Would you be proud of me? Or tell me to stop being such a pain in the ass?”
I try to laugh, but it comes out weak. “It’s been a tough year. I keep thinking it’ll get easier, but it’s like… the more time passes, the harder it is…”
I pick at the hem of my sleeve. “Anyways, things are changing. I’m not sure I’m ready, but they are. I met someone. Well, not met. He’s been around. And he’s... not what I expected.”
I shake my head, a tiny smile tugging at my lips. “You’d like him. He’s stubborn as hell, but he makes me laugh. And he doesn’t scare easy.”
The smile fades, replaced by that familiar tightness in my chest. “I don’t know if I can do this. Let someone in. I’ve spent so long just... surviving. Being fine.”
The tears come, quiet but steady. “I wish you were here. I wish I didn’t have to figure this out without you.”
I sit there for a minute longer, letting the wind whip at my hair, the silence settle around me.
But then I hear footsteps behind me, and everything shifts.
I turn, and it’s Jack.
He’s standing a few feet away, hat in hand, expression surprised—and then soft.
“Hey, Andi.”
I stand slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“Visiting,” he says simply, nodding toward a different section of the cemetery. “Old friends of mine.”
I nod, not sure what else to say.
“You come here often?” he asks.
I shrug. “Sometimes. When things get… heavy.”
He walks closer, not crowding me, just there. Present.
I look down at the headstone again, eyes tracing the curves of their names. “I don’t usually see anyone else out here.”
“Guess we both needed something today,” he says.
Silence stretches between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just weighty.
After a minute, Jack clears his throat. “How’ve you been, kid?”
“Okay,” I say. “Busy with work. The usual.”
He nods. “Can I give you some advice?”
I glance at him, wary. “That depends.”
He gives me a half-smile, but his eyes are serious. “Don’t do what I did. Don’t spend your whole life thinking you don’t need anyone.”
I freeze.
This is so out of the ordinary that I’m not sure what to say. Jack has never once given me a touching speech like this. Made sure I’ve eaten? Sure. Helped me change a flat tire? Yeah. But not…this.
He looks out over the cemetery, voice low. “It’s easy, right? Telling yourself you’re fine. That you’ve got it handled. But one day, you look up, and it’s just… quiet. Too quiet.”
My chest tightens. “I’m not—”
“I know,” he cuts in gently. “But don’t end up like me, Andi. Your parents wouldn’t want that for you.”
It hits like a punch.
I swallow hard, blinking fast. “Jack, don’t—”
“But it’s true.”
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. I swipe at it angrily, but he doesn’t comment. Just lets me have the space.
After a minute, I draw a shaky breath. “You’re not eighty, you know. You could still meet someone.”
He huffs a laugh, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah?”
I nod. “I mean, I wouldn’t date you, but someone might.”
He chuckles, the lines around his eyes softening. “Thanks for that.”
I nudge him lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve got time.”
Something shifts in his expression, something lighter. “I might’ve… met someone.”
I blink. That’s unexpected. “Wait, really? Who?”
Jack rubs the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “Her name’s Kate.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Kate?”
He nods, looking like he’s trying not to smile too hard. “Yeah. She’s smart. Funny. Doesn’t put up with my crap.”
I stare at him, stunned. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like... this.” I gesture vaguely. “Soft.”
He shrugs, but there’s color in his cheeks. “She’s worth it.”
I let out a breath, surprised at the warmth blooming in my chest. “Good. I’m glad.”
Jack gives me a long look. “Me too. And I want the same for you, kid.”
I nod, still processing, still hurting—but I’m listening—for once.