Then Daniel looked at her.
“What about James?”
“What about him?”
“Did you love him?”
Evelyn almost laughed.
“Yes.”
“Until the end?”
“Yes.”
Daniel nodded.
No jealousy.
No awkwardness.
That mattered.
Evelyn looked at him.
“You?”
“What?”
“Your wife.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
Daniel considered.
“I hope she is happy.”
Evelyn smiled.
“That is a good answer.”
“Is there a test?”
“There is always a test.”
Rain intensified.
Daniel lifted one hand.
A drop fell through a crack in the roof.
Then another.
Evelyn watched him.
The porch seemed suddenly smaller.
Daniel looked at her.
Neither moved.
Then he said:
“I like your house.”
Evelyn smiled.
“You've criticized half of it.”
“I like that too.”
“You complain about coffee.”
“It is dangerous.”
“You moved my tools.”
“They were disorganized.”
“You are alive because I found you under a pile of rocks.”
Daniel nodded.
“That remains your strongest argument.”
Evelyn laughed.
The sound faded.
He was closer now.
Not much.
Still enough.
“Evelyn.”
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
She stared.
At sixty-three, nobody had asked her that in decades.
James usually just knew.
Or assumed.
This felt different.
Daniel waited.
No movement.
No pressure.
Evelyn’s heart beat faster.
“Yes.”
Daniel stepped closer.
His hand touched her cheek carefully.
The kiss was gentle.
Brief.
Almost uncertain.
When he pulled away, Evelyn remained still.
Daniel looked nervous.
“Was that—”
She kissed him again.
Longer.
Not desperate.
Not young.
There was no need for urgency.
They had both lived through enough years to understand that tenderness could be more frightening than passion.
When they separated, Evelyn rested her forehead lightly against his.
“You’re shaking.”
Daniel smiled.
“Broken leg.”
“Liar.”
“Yes.”
They stood beneath the rain.
No promises.
No need.
Not yet.
The investigation widened.
Engineers testified.
Former employees came forward.
One admitted altered slope reports had been ordered.
Another produced emails.
Insurance records showed settlements tied to accidents near unstable sections of road.
James Hart’s documents became important because they proved problems had been reported years earlier.
His name appeared in newspapers.
Evelyn hated that.
Then loved it.
Then hated herself for loving it.
Daniel understood.
“You wanted him private.”
“Yes.”
“But you want him believed.”
“Yes.”
“That is allowed.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Who decided?”
“I did.”
“Dangerous.”
“Very.”
Three months after the highway crash, Marcus Vale pleaded not guilty to assault and obstruction charges tied to Daniel’s attack.
Two men eventually admitted participating in the collision.
Vale denied ordering it.
The evidence suggested otherwise.
The criminal case took longer.
Evelyn learned patience.
Badly.
Daniel attended hearings.
Evelyn sat beside him.