By the time the last streaks of daylight faded behind the hills, the town had gone still again. Porch lights flickered on one by one, and the hum of crickets filled the spaces where chatter had been hours before.
Hannah and Emma walked the quiet streets back toward Hannah's house, the warm scent of rain and distant woodsmoke in the air. Neither spoke for a while — not out of awkwardness, but the kind of peace that comes from knowing silence is safe.
When they reached the porch, Hannah didn't turn on the light right away. She just leaned against the railing, eyes on the dim outline of the trees beyond the road. "You ever have one of those days where everything feels like it's supposed to?" she asked softly.
Emma smiled. "Today felt like that."
Hannah nodded. "It's been a long time since I had one."
Emma joined her at the railing. "You make it sound like you were waiting for it."
"Maybe I was." Hannah hesitated, the words sitting carefully on her tongue. "I've always been good at staying busy. Running the café, checking in on everyone else… but lately, it feels like I've actually been here. Present."
Emma looked at her, quiet for a moment. "You don't have to apologize for that. You've built something beautiful — you just finally let yourself stand still long enough to notice it."
The streetlight buzzed faintly, moths circling it like tiny constellations. Hannah turned to her, the softest smile curving her lips. "You make it sound easy."
"I don't think it's easy," Emma said. "I think it's brave."
They stood like that for a long time — close but not touching, the distance between them charged with something gentle and true.
Finally, Hannah whispered, "You know, I didn't expect any of this. You showing up with your paint-covered hands and bad jokes."
Emma laughed quietly. "You loved the bad jokes."
"Maybe I did." Hannah's voice dropped, soft as the night air. "I just know I'm glad you stayed."
Emma's gaze lingered on her face, the kind of look that said everything words couldn't. "Me too."
Somewhere down the street, a dog barked, and the sound drew them both back to the moment — to the quiet porch, the scent of wet earth, and the steady hum of a connection that had become something real.