That Summer

"I don't know," Ally admitted, walking over to the window. She stared out at the overgrown garden, once Grandma's pride and joy. "It's weird being here without her. The house feels... different."

Jake nodded. "Yeah, it's not the same." His voice softened, a rare vulnerability creeping into his words. "I think that's why I haven't been back much."

Ally turned toward him, watching the way his gaze moved over the room. He was right; the house wasn't the same without Grandma, and maybe that was part of the reason it felt so strange being back here. But at the same time, it still held the memories of summers spent together, of long talks and laughter. It was a house full of history, not just hers, but Jake's too.

"We don't have to decide everything right away," Ally said, sensing that the conversation needed more space. "But I think... I want to stay for a while. At least for now. The city can wait. I need time to figure things out."

Jake looked surprised but nodded slowly. "You're staying here? For how long?"

"I'm not sure," Ally said with a shrug. "I guess I just feel like I need to be here, you know? It's weird, but it feels like I'm supposed to... I don't know, put things back together."

Jake's expression softened. "Yeah, I get that. I feel the same way. I've been avoiding it, but maybe staying isn't such a bad idea."

Ally smiled slightly. "It's going to be weird, isn't it? Us, in this house, after everything?"

Jake chuckled, though it was tinged with a hint of discomfort. "Yeah, it's going to be... interesting."

They stood there for a moment, both of them thinking the same thing—what would it be like to live under the same roof again, after all the time and distance that had separated them? But at the same time, something about the idea felt right, even if it was complicated.

"I don't expect us to figure everything out overnight," Ally said. "But maybe we can try to fix what we left broken. At least for her."

Jake nodded, glancing at the photo of Ally's grandmother. "Yeah. For her."

Ally walked over to the kitchen, glancing back at Jake with a raised eyebrow. "You hungry? I haven't had a chance to get groceries, but I bet there's something around here we can scrounge up."

Jake followed her into the kitchen, the weight between them starting to ease just a little. "Sure, let's see what we've got."

The two of them rummaged through the pantry, laughing when they found ancient cans of soup and stale crackers that had been sitting there for far too long. It felt strange, almost surreal, to be doing something so normal with Jake again after all these years. But it also felt like a tiny step back toward the way things used to be—before the fight, before the distance.

As they cobbled together a makeshift meal, the conversation turned lighter. They swapped stories about their lives since the last time they'd seen each other. Ally talked about her time in Boston, the hustle and excitement of the city, and Jake shared stories about working with his family's construction business and the quiet life he'd been living.

It wasn't perfect, and the tension of their past still hovered in the background, but for the first time in years, they were talking. And it felt... okay.

Later that night, as the last light of day faded and they both sat on the old couch, sipping coffee in the dim glow of the kitchen light, Ally felt something shift. It wasn't a resolution, not yet, but it was a start. They had shared the hardest part—the past—and now they had to figure out the future. Together, or at least in the same house, for now.

"Jake," Ally said, her voice soft, "I know we have a lot to work through, but... I'm glad we're both here. I think Grandma knew what she was doing."

Jake looked at her, his expression thoughtful, then nodded. "Yeah, I think she did too."

And as the night deepened, they sat in a comfortable silence, the weight of the years between them no longer as heavy as it once had been. It wasn't a solution, but it was enough for tonight. They had time to figure the rest out.

That night, the house was quieter than Ally remembered it ever being. The ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway was the only sound, a steady reminder of time passing, of moments lost and others waiting to be reclaimed. After cleaning up from their makeshift dinner, she offered Jake the guest room. He hesitated at first, but with a quiet nod, he accepted. They were both exhausted—not just from the day, but from the weight of everything that had gone unsaid between them for so long.