The coastal town seemed to have a rhythm all its own. The salty air, the waves crashing against the rocks, the soft hum of the bookstore in the mornings it was a peaceful sort of chaos. Ava had always felt like an outsider, but now, it was as if the town had become part of her, as though the pieces of her life had finally fit into place.
But just when she thought things might settle, the past had a way of creeping back in, as it often does.
It started with a letter.
Ava hadn't seen it at first, tucked away in the corner of the bookstore, buried beneath stacks of books she'd been sorting through. The envelope was familiar, the handwriting unmistakable.
Her father.
She hadn't heard from him in years, not since he walked out of their lives without a word, leaving only silence in his wake. The letter was thin, just a few lines written in a hurried, almost desperate script.
Ava,
I know this is the last thing you want to hear from me. But I've been thinking about you and your mother. I don't expect forgiveness. I just wanted you to know I'm sorry.
I'm dying, Ava. I don't have much time left. I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to make things right, but I hope you can find it in your heart to understand.
Please come if you can. There's nothing left to lose.
Her hands shook as she read it again, then again. Dying? The word echoed in her mind, a hollow sound that refused to go away.
It had been a lifetime since she thought about him, and yet, here he was, reaching out. But was she ready to go back? Was she ready to face the man who had broken her heart and her mother's?
Max was the first one to notice the change in her.
He found her on the small porch of the bookstore, the letter clutched in her hands, her eyes distant.
"Ava?" Max asked, his voice quiet, filled with concern. "What's wrong?"
She didn't need to answer him right away. Max had learned to wait for her, to give her space to process her emotions, to let her speak when she was ready. And as she looked up at him, she knew she couldn't do this alone.
"He's dying," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "My father."
Max moved closer, sitting beside her. He didn't speak right away, just letting her words settle between them like a heavy fog. He could feel the weight of the decision in her silence.
"I don't know if I should go," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "After everything… I don't know if I'm ready."
Max turned to face her, his hand gently resting on hers. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. But whatever you choose, I'm here."
She looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes grounding her. Maybe the past could never be fully erased, but there was something powerful in knowing she wasn't facing it alone anymore.
"I don't even know if I want closure," Ava confessed, her voice raw. "What if it doesn't change anything? What if it just hurts more?"
Max nodded, understanding the fear that laced her words. "But sometimes, Ava, closure isn't about fixing the past. It's about giving yourself permission to let it go."
She thought about that for a long moment. Maybe it wasn't about finding answers or seeking forgiveness. Maybe it was about choosing to release the weight she'd been carrying for so long about finally stepping into the life she had built, free of the shadows that had lingered in the background.
"I don't want to live in the past anymore," she said finally, her voice steady. "I think it's time to let go."
Max smiled, squeezing her hand. "Then let it go. You don't have to carry it with you."
The drive to the hospital was long. Ava had spent the night thinking it over, weighing the pros and cons of facing the man who had left her. But as the miles passed by, she knew this wasn't about him it was about her.
The hospital room was quiet, almost sterile, with the faint smell of antiseptic in the air. Her father lay in the bed, frail and pale, his once strong presence reduced to a shadow of what it had been.
When he saw her, his eyes filled with something that could have been regret, or maybe just relief. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out at first. His voice was weak when he finally managed to whisper, "Ava."
She stood at the door for a moment, her heart beating loudly in her chest. She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected to feel anything at all. But standing here, in front of the man who had been absent from her life for so long, she felt… nothing. Nothing except the quiet finality of it all.
"I don't know if I can forgive you," she said, her voice steady, but her eyes glassy. "But I'm here."
Her father nodded, as if he had expected nothing more. "I don't deserve it. I never did."
Ava was quiet for a moment, staring at the man who had been both a father and a ghost in her life. She hadn't come here for forgiveness she had come here to finally let go.
"I don't need your apology," she said, her voice breaking just a little. "I just needed to see you, to know that I don't need you to move on. I've been carrying you for too long."
Her father's eyes filled with tears, and for the first time, Ava saw him not as the man who had hurt her, but as the broken human being he had become. She didn't want to feel sorry for him, but she did. It was a human thing, this connection to another person even after everything.
"I hope you find peace," she said softly, turning away. "Goodbye."
As she walked out of the room, she felt something heavy lift from her chest, the weight of a lifetime of resentment fading with every step she took. She had finally let go.
When Ava returned to the bookstore, Max was waiting for her. He didn't need to ask. He could see it in the way she held herself, the quiet relief in her eyes.
"How do you feel?" he asked gently.
Ava let out a long breath, feeling lighter than she had in years. "Free," she whispered, her voice filled with something that sounded like hope.
Max smiled, stepping toward her. "Good. You deserve to feel free."
She nodded, looking up at him. "I think I'm finally starting to believe that."
And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the town that had become her home, Ava knew that the hardest part was over. She wasn't defined by her past anymore. She was free to choose what came next.
Whatever it was.