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Releasing a breath from the depths of my quietly healing soul, I faced my dad once more. "I love you, Dad."
His smile was infinite. "I love you too."
We were quiet, the emotion flowing through the room.
"Who wants to eat?" my grandma shouted, making us both laugh.
We feasted on her amazing food late into the night, drinking, eating, celebrating the miracle of my father's return. And I knew this was just the beginning.
When my mom arrived tomorrow—oh, goodness—this house was going to catch on fire from all the insanity. And then my brother? I could hardly wait.
My grandparents insisted that I stay the night and sleep in one of the guest rooms, my dad in the other. I supposed this was his home for now? Until my mom and dad figured out their future.
Sometime after midnight, Josh had to leave to walk Magic, and I gave him the biggest hug at the front door, thanking him, all the while aware of my dad's eyes on us. Some things I guess never changed.
And after I closed the door behind him, my dad asked, "Who's this Josh guy anyway?"
I laughed. Oh, boy, did I have a lot to tell him eventually. "He's my, um, neighbor and business partner... and friend."
He raised a brow at me, looking skeptical. "Well, he seemed like a nice guy."
"He is, Dad," I answered, reverting back to my smart-ass teenage tone.
His only answer for a moment was his hearty laugh. "I missed you."
"I missed you too."
And that night, for the first time in three years, I slept like a baby, knowing my father was snoring away in the next room.
I had been right.
My father was alive.
And I had never been happier.
