Page 14 of The Only Road Back

JACK

Packing Beth’s apartment steals half the morning, but it would’ve taken longer if Lori hadn’t shown up armed with coffee, packing tape, and her trademark bulldozing determination.

“All right, lovebirds,” she declares, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. “Let’s finish this before I start crying and make it weird.”

Beth laughs, though I hear the nerves woven through it. She’s been silent all morning, folding her old life into cardboard. I keep my focus on hauling boxes to the U-Haul, giving her space while Lori tackles the rest.

When the last box lands in the trailer, Lori plants a hand on her hip and lets out a sharp breath. “Damn. It doesn’t feel real, you actually leaving.”

Beth wipes sweat from her brow. “Yeah. I feel the same.”

Lori steps forward and takes Beth’s hands. “You sure?”

Hesitation crosses Beth’s face, but she recovers. “Yeah. I am.”

Lori nods, eyes shining. “Good. Otherwise, I’d have to talk some sense into you.”

Beth’s smile is watery but genuine. Then they hold each other tightly, clinging like they’ll never get this again.

I turn away, giving them their moment.

Lori pulls back, sniffling. “Okay. You better have a guest room ready, because I’m visiting.”

Beth dries her cheeks. “I’m counting on it.”

Lori turns on me, arms folded. “And you—”

I arch a brow. “What about me?”

She fixes me with her most serious stare. “Take care of her, Jack. Promise.”

“I will. You don’t have to worry.”

That seems good enough. Lori hugs Beth once more, then steps back. “Go now, before I change my mind.”

We don’t linger. Beth swallows hard and forces a shaky smile. Soon, we’re on the highway, the city shrinking behind us.

The drive to Kansas unspools in silence at first. Beth watches the skyline dissolve, fingers twisting at the edge of her sweater. I let her be.

Halfway there, she finally speaks. “I never told my parents I was leaving.”

I keep my eyes fixed on the road. “Didn’t expect you to.”

Her voice is low. “They don’t deserve to know.”

I glance over. The set of her jaw, the way she curls in on herself, tells me everything. “Are you okay with that?”

For a while, she says nothing. Then she nods. “Yeah. I think so.”

I take her hand. She squeezes back. That’s enough.

Dusk stains the sky pink and gold as we arrive in Riverdale. Familiar streets ease something tight inside me. Beth looks out at Main Street’s mom-and-pop shops, the glowing diner sign, the hush that settles over it all.

She lets out a breath. “It’s quiet here.”

I smirk. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She shakes her head. “No. I think I like it.”

We pull into my driveway. Beth sits for a moment, staring up at the house. It looks the same as when she left, but something’s different now. Her hands fidget in her lap.

“Ready?” I ask.

She draws a breath. “Yeah.”

Inside, she moves through the familiar rooms with new eyes. This time, she’s not a guest. This time, she’s staying.

We’re halfway through unloading when Henry’s truck rumbles up the drive.

“Well, well,” he says, climbing out with a grin. “Look who wandered back.”

Beth manages a small smile. “Hey, Henry.”

He pulls her in for a one-armed hug. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

She stiffens, then relaxes. Something seems to settle in her.

I clear my throat. “You going to help unload or just stand there giving orders?”

Henry snorts. “Why mess with tradition?”

Beth laughs, lighter now. Some of the weight seems to melt from her shoulders.

We haul the rest of the boxes inside. When we’re done, Henry claps me on the shoulder.

“I’ll leave you two to get settled,” he says, winking at Beth. “Don’t let him rearrange your things without asking first.”

After he leaves, Beth moves through the rooms again, but differently now.

She’s seeing it all through the lens of permanence.

She touches the back of the old couch like she’s testing whether it’s really okay to claim it, runs a hand along the counter that will be hers now, too, lingers over the dog- eared spines in my bookshelf like she’s imagining her own books beside them.

Finally, she faces me. “This is real, isn’t it?”

I cross the space between us. “Yeah. It’s real.”

She leans into my palm when I lift it to her cheek. “It’s a little scary.”

“I know,” I say. “But it’ll get better.”

She studies me. “Are you really sure? About this—about me?”

I don’t let doubt get between us. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

She draws a trembling breath. “Jack—”

I close the space and kiss her before the second-guessing can start. This time, she doesn’t pull away.