Chapter 8
My words had failed to drive James away. Instead of leaving, he dug in his heels, moving his entire operation here. Each day, a steady stream of documents arrived from the city, which he pored over late into the night, then sent back by morning. His
Chapter 8
at his worn, tired face, shadows etched beneath his eyes and murmured, “I’ll be staying here a while. You should go back.”
Sandra, who’d once made threats against the orphanage director, was locked away for good. With her gone and with James always nearby, there was no longer a need to run or hide. Beyond that, I couldn’t bear to leave the director in his fragile condition, not now. I’d planned on traveling, but that was put on hold. My time here would be spent honoring him and caring for the children.
After the many times I’d pushed him away, James seemed to have finally grasped what I wanted. He chose each word carefully, trying to make sure we spoke as equals.
“I‘ d… like to stay here, with you.” He hesitated, searching my face. “If that’s
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Chapter 8
alright with you.”
His tone was so sincere and something in his expression so gentle, that I barely recognized him. This was a new James, one who spoke and moved like a man unsure of himself. Like a man willing to wait for my answer. I gave him a quiet nod.
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As you wish.”
And so, James fell into a rhythm that became almost second nature. His mornings were spent poring over documents, phone pressed to his ear, while his afternoons were with me, tending to the children. Every so often, I’d catch him in a quiet moment, his gaze fixed on the kids laughing and tumbling in the courtyard, a distant look in his eyes.
I could guess what he was thinking, but I
Chapter 8
never asked. We‘ d both endured our own
share of heartbreaks; some things were better
left in silence.
One afternoon, as I sat watching the children’s play, I felt a tug on my coat. Glancing down, I saw one of the boys from the orphanage, his wide, bright eyes looking up at me in earnest.
“Nadine, I can’t figure out my math homework,” he said, holding up a wrinkled sheet covered in numbers and eraser smudges.
Smiling, I knelt beside him. “Of course. Let’s figure it out together, alright?”
As I talked him through the numbers, the warm sunlight poured through the window, casting a gentle glow across the room. It was
Chapter 8
a moment so pure, so full of simple
happiness, that I wished it would never end. I wasn’t waiting for anything, for anyone, just savoring each second I had.
Across the room, James had looked up from his work. He watched me, his expression softened, some of the old tension in his face beginning to fade. For a long time, he simply stared, as though seeing me for the first time. Then, as though some instinct compelled him, he rose and came over.
The look in his eyes was full of something quiet and steady, like a man who had finally found his peace. And for the first time in a long time, I felt that maybe, just maybe, I’d found mine too.
(The End)
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