PART 5:

Victoria showed up at 6:00, knocking on his door in running gear that looked like it cost more than his car payment. Daniel answered in sweatpants he’d found in a box and a t-shirt with holes in it. “You look ready,” Victoria said, not bothering to hide her amusement. “I look like I’m about to have a heart attack.

” “That comes later.” They started slow, which was good, because Daniel’s lungs gave up after the first quarter mile. Victoria didn’t comment, just slowed her pace to match his. Her breath steady, while his sounded like a dying engine. They ran the loop around Willow Creek Park, a route Daniel used to do in high school without thinking.

Now, it felt like climbing a mountain. His knees hurt, his shins hurt, parts of him he’d forgotten existed, hurt. Victoria stayed quiet for the first mile, then started talking. “I bought the house 4 years ago,” she said, her voice even despite the movement. “Used to be the old Callahan estate.

Remember it?” Daniel grunted something affirmative. He remembered. Everyone in Willow Creek remembered the Callahan place. Old money, big parties, the kind of house people gossiped about. “It was falling apart when I bought it. Took 2 years to renovate. My father hated it. Said I was wasting money. You weren’t? No, I was trying to build something permanent.

Something that felt like it mattered. She glanced at him. Didn’t work. Why not? Because a house is just a house. It doesn’t fix anything. They ran in silence for another half mile. Daniel’s lungs were burning now, his legs screaming. Victoria looked like she was taking a casual stroll. You can stop if you need to, she said. I’m fine. You’re dying. Same thing.

She laughed. Actually laughed. It was brief, but real. Daniel felt something loosen in his chest that had nothing to do with oxygen deprivation. They made it back to Maple Drive just after 7:00. Daniel collapsed on his porch steps gasping like a fish on dry land. Victoria stretched beside him, barely winded. You’re out of shape, she observed.

Thank you. Hadn’t noticed. Same time tomorrow? Absolutely not. I’ll take that as a yes. She jogged back to her house and Daniel sat there sweating and miserable and weirdly less miserable than he’d been in weeks. Emma came out 10 minutes later already dressed for school. You smell bad, she announced. Good morning to you, too.

Were you running with the pretty lady? Her name is Victoria. Were you running with Victoria? Yeah. Emma sat beside him swinging her legs. Are you friends again? I don’t know what we are. That’s confusing. Tell me about it. She leaned against him and Daniel put an arm around her ignoring the fact that he was covered in sweat.

They sat there for a while watching the street wake up. Cars pulling out of driveways, dogs being walked. The normal rhythm of a small town pretending yesterday didn’t matter. I I it here, Emma said suddenly. Daniel looked down at her. Yeah? Yeah, it’s quiet and there’s a yard and Victoria has fish. That’s a low bar. It’s better than the apartment.

She wasn’t wrong. The apartment in Chicago had been a shoebox with thin walls and neighbors who fought loud enough to teach Emma words she shouldn’t know. This was better. Even falling apart, it was better. We’ll make it work, Daniel said. Promise? He hesitated. Promises felt heavy lately. Felt like debts he couldn’t pay.

But Emma was looking at him with those eyes, her mother’s eyes, and he couldn’t say no. Promise. She smiled and Daniel hoped like hell he could keep it. The routine became a thing. Daniel didn’t plan for it to, but routines don’t ask permission. They just happen. Every morning Victoria knocked at 6:00. Every morning Daniel dragged himself out of bed and ran until his body threatened mutiny.

They talked sometimes, small things, safe things. Other times they just ran in silence and that was fine, too. Afternoons Emma wandered over to Victoria’s to see the fish. Daniel let her, mostly because telling her no felt cruel and partly because Victoria seemed lighter when Emma was around. She taught Emma the fishes names, ridiculous things like Emperor and Duchess and Steve.

Emma loved it. Evenings Daniel worked on the house. Victoria started showing up with tools he didn’t have, offering advice he didn’t ask for. She knew more about home repair than he expected. Turned out she’d renovated her place mostly herself, something about not trusting contractors to care as much as she did.

They fixed the porch railing together on a Tuesday. Victoria held the boards while Daniel screwed them in. Their hands close enough to touch, but never quite doing it. You’re better at this than I thought you’d be, she said. Low expectations? Realistic ones. That’s just mean. It’s honest. They worked in comfortable silence after that, the kind that felt earned.

When they finished, the railing was solid, sturdy enough that Daniel trusted it for the first time since he’d moved back. Coffee? Victoria offered. Daniel almost said no. Almost. But Emma was inside doing homework, and the house felt too quiet lately, and Victoria was standing there looking less like a billionaire and more like someone who just wanted company.

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