Chapter Twenty -Four: An Unexpected Door

Late August arrived with a surprising letter.

Ellie found it in their mailbox—thick paper, a New York address, and her name typed cleanly across the envelope. Inside was an offer from a major publishing house: a collection deal for her Dalton stories and a six-month residency in the city.

She read it three times before Jack came home.

"I wasn't looking for this," she said, holding the letter like it might catch fire.

Jack read it slowly, his thumb running along the edge.

"That's huge," he said.

"I know. But it means leaving for a while. It means leaving you."

He met her eyes. "It means chasing your dream. And I wouldn't stop you, not for a second."

They talked all night. About what it would mean. About distance. About whether Dalton could still be home if Ellie needed to wander again.

"I'll come back," she said, somewhere between midnight and dawn.

"I know," he whispered. "And I'll be here."

The next weeks were filled with plans and packing. Jack added shelves to her studio for when she returned. Ellie promised to write every day.

When the train finally pulled out of Dalton, Jack stood alone on the platform, one hand raised, the other in his pocket.

Ellie waved until the town disappeared.

She didn't cry—not because she wasn't sad, but because for the first time in her life, she knew exactly what she was coming back to.

And Jack, watching the tracks disappear into the horizon, knew something else just as clearly:

Sometimes love means holding on.

Sometimes it means letting go.

But always, it means believing in the return.