Elias looked around the gathered faces.
“Some people arrive through birth. Some through marriage. Some because their car breaks down near our gate and Miriam feeds them.”
Sam raised his glass.
“True.”
“Some people arrive through circumstances no one would choose.”
His gaze found mine.
“That does not mean the connection has to remain defined by the worst day.”
Emotion tightened my throat.
“To second chances,” he said.
Glasses lifted.
“To tables with more chairs than necessary.”
Miriam smiled.
“And to the people who make the chairs worth filling.”
We drank.
Reid’s thumb moved over my knuckles beneath the table.
I managed forty more minutes.
Then sound began separating into layers I could no longer organize.
Children.
Utensils.
Wind chimes.
Three conversations.
A dog barking near the barn.
My right eye started blinking more slowly.
Reid noticed before I admitted anything.
He leaned close.
“Time.”
“I know.”
The agreement made his expression soften.
We said goodbye.
Not quick goodbyes.
