Chapter 13 - A Quiet Evening on Fourth Street
13 -
The rain had cleared by the time we flipped the sign on the front door to CLOSED at 10:00 PM. The wet asphalt of 4th Street reflected the amber glow of the streetlamps, and the cool night air carried the fresh, crisp scent of clean pavement.
Inside, the restaurant was peaceful. The dining room was quiet, the chairs were tucked neatly beneath the wooden tables, and the soft jazz playing over the corner speakers filled the empty space with a gentle, soothing rhythm.
Emily was wiping down the espresso machine behind the counter, her movements unhurried and serene. I walked out of the kitchen with a damp rag in hand, tossing it into the laundry basket by the back door before walking over to join her.
"She's gone," I said quietly, leaning against the counter beside her.
Emily paused, wiping her hands on a clean cloth, and looked up at me. "I saw her leave about ten minutes ago. She didn't touch the soup, but she left a few crumpled dollar bills on the table."
I let out a slow breath, shaking my head slightly. "Pride to the very end."
Emily reached out, sliding her warm hand into mine. Her fingers felt strong, grounded, and entirely real. "Do you regret talking to her?"
"No," I answered instantly. "If anything, seeing her tonight confirmed everything I needed to know. The ghosts are finally gone, Emily. There's no anger left. Just... quiet."
"Good," Emily smiled softly, leaning her head against my shoulder. "Because we have a restaurant to run tomorrow, and the accountant says we actually made a profit this month."
I laughed, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her close. "A profit? On four tables?"
"On four tables and a lot of heart," she corrected playfully.
We locked up the front door, turned off the main dining room lights, and walked back to the small apartment we rented above a bookstore three blocks away. It wasn't a Beverly Hills mansion. There were no private security gates, no swimming pools, and no sprawling manicured lawns.
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It had two rooms, a creaking floorboard by the hallway, and a window that looked out over a row of potted plants on the fire escape.
And it was the happiest home we had ever known.
