Chapter Nine: The Turn

The next morning came with a sky that couldn't make up its mind. Grey clouds lingered over Dalton, as if the town itself was holding its breath. Ellie stood outside the motel with her bag in hand, her camera slung around her neck, watching the road. Ruthie leaned against the car, arms folded, saying nothing.

"You could stay," Ruthie offered. It wasn't a push. It was just a hand gently placed on a back, letting her know she didn't have to go.

Ellie gave a half-smile. "That's the problem, Ruthie. I want to."

Half an hour later, Jack heard footsteps on the gravel behind the garage. He looked up from a carburetor just in time to see Ellie rounding the corner, her bag still over her shoulder.

"I thought you left," he said.

She shook her head. "I couldn't. Not without saying what I need to say."

Jack straightened. "Alright."

Ellie stepped closer, voice soft. "I've spent years running from places. From people. I tell myself it's adventure. But really... it's fear. Fear of being known. Of being still. But with you, Jack, I feel like I could stop. I don't know what that means yet. But I want to find out."

The mechanic's eyes didn't waver. "I want that too."

They stood close now, breath mingling in the still air. And then, finally, Jack reached out. His hand found her face, gentle and certain. Ellie closed her eyes, and when their lips met, it wasn't rushed. It wasn't fireworks. It was a slow burn that reached down to the places they thought love had forgotten.

Behind them, the garage hummed with the rhythm of tools and time. Around them, Dalton stayed quiet, respectful. As if the town itself understood something sacred had shifted.

When they parted, neither of them said anything for a while. There was no need.

Later that day, Jack walked her back to the motel. Ruthie took one look at them and gave a grin that held no surprise.

"About damn time," she muttered, flicking her cigarette away.

Ellie was staying. For now. And Jack wasn't fixing cars like he used to. He was fixing something else—something inside himself.

And as the rain finally began to fall that evening, the two of them sat beneath the awning of the auto shop, sharing a blanket, watching the street soak and the past wash away.

Neither of them knew what came next. But for once, that didn't matter.

They were in the same place.

And for the first time in years, that was enough.