I want to. The words came out more intensely than he intended, and something shifted in the air between them. Savannah held tilt his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. "Okay," she said softly. "I would like that. " Moving day came on a Saturday morning in late June.
Derek recruited a few of his teacher friends. Mark from the English department who had a truck, Jennifer from math, who was surprisingly strong for someone so small. David from PE who could carry a couch by himself. They carried boxes up three flights of stairs. Savannah's studio apartment was small but full of natural light with big windows that overlooked a quiet street lined with trees.
Derek assembled furniture while Jennifer hung pictures. Mark got lost trying to figure out where the bathroom was in a 400 square ft apartment. Savannah ordered pizza for everyone, and by the end of the day, her space felt like home. Photos of her family lined the bookshelf. Her design equipment was set up in the corner.
The red dress she had worn that first day hung in the closet like a talisman. After the others left, Derek stayed behind to help with the last few boxes. "I cannot believe I actually did this," Savannah said, looking around at her new home. "6 months ago, I could not imagine leaving my aunt's house. I could not imagine having a life again. " She looked at Derek, and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
You and Lily, you gave me something to live for, something to move toward instead of just existing. Derek wanted to say so much in that moment. Wanted to tell her that she had given him something, too. That watching her fight her way back to life had reminded him that his own life was not over. That loving her because he did love her.
He knew that now with absolute certainty had made him believe in second chances again. But the words stuck in his throat. Too much, too soon, too risky. We are glad you are here, he said instead. Lily has not stopped talking about having you close by.
She is already planning the housewarming party. Savannah laughed and the moment passed. But something had shifted. They both felt it. The space between them was charged now electric with possibility.
4 months after their first meeting, Derek suggested a beach day. There is this place about an hour from here, he said. Canon Beach. Lily has been asking to go all summer. It is supposed to be beautiful.
Savannah's expression flickered. Something passed across her face. Fear maybe or hesitation. I do not know, she said slowly. The sand is hard to navigate.
And the water. She trailed off, not meeting his eyes. Derek waited. He had learned by now that Savannah would share when she was ready, that pushing only made her retreat. I have not been to a beach since before the accident, she finally admitted.
Her voice was quiet. I have not I have not shown anyone my leg. The prosthetic. It is different in pants or jeans or long skirts, but at the beach you do not have to show anyone anything, Derek said gently. But I want you to know something.
He moved closer, taking her hands in his. You could never slow us down, Savannah. You are the one who keeps us moving forward. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of pity or obligation. She found none.
They went to Canon Beach the following Saturday. Lily ran ahead toward the water, shrieking with delight at the waves. Derek carried their cooler and blankets. Savannah moved carefully across the sand, her crutches sinking slightly with each step. It was harder than walking on solid ground, but she managed.
They found a spot near some rocks sheltered from the wind. Derek spread out the blanket while Lily immediately started building a sand castle. "I am going to make the biggest castle ever," she announced with a moat and towers and a dragon cave. "That sounds very ambitious," Savannah said, settling onto the blanket. I am a very ambitious person, Lily replied seriously.
For a while, they just existed in the warmth of the summer sun. Derek read a book. Savannah sketched in the notebook she always carried. Lily constructed her sand empire with intense focus. Then Savannah took a deep breath.
"Can you help me? " she asked Derek quietly. "I want to take off. I want to sit on the blanket properly without the prosthetic. It was a bigger request than it sounded. Derek understood that.
She was asking to be vulnerable, asking to be seen. Of course, he helped her remove the prosthetic carefully, setting it beside her on the blanket. For the first time, Derek saw what remained of her left leg, the smooth skin where it ended below the knee, the small scars from the surgery. He did not flinch, did not look away, did not react with the pity or discomfort she had been bracing for. He just looked at her, all of her, and smiled.
Lily noticed the movement and looked over from her sand castle. Her eyes went to the prosthetic, then to Savannah's leg, then back to the prosthetic. Pure curiosity, without a trace of fear or judgment. Does it hurt? She asked, abandoning her castle to come closer.
Sometimes, Savannah admitted. Not right now, but sometimes at night. Can I touch it? Savannah's breath caught. If you want to.
Lily ran her small fingers over the prosthetic, then over the socket, examining everything with the scientific curiosity of a child who has not yet learned to be uncomfortable with difference. It is like a robot leg, she said finally, her voice filled with wonder. That is so cool. You are like a superhero. Miss Savannah.
Savannah burst into tears. Not from pain, not from sadness, from being seen so completely, so innocently, without a trace of pity. Derek moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. You are beautiful, he murmured into her hair. Every single part of you.
They stayed on that beach until sunset, watching the sky turn orange and pink and purple. Lily fell asleep against Savannah's shoulder, exhausted from sand castle construction. Derek sat close enough that his arm pressed against hers. And for the first time since the accident, Savannah felt whole. 4 months after that first Saturday at the Corner Bean, everything Derek had built came crashing down with a single phone call.
It was a Tuesday evening in early August. Derek was at his kitchen table grading student artwork from the summer program he taught. Lily sat nearby coloring with fierce concentration, her tongue poking out like it always did when she was focused. His phone rang. The name on the screen made his stomach clench.
"Chelsea Mitchell," he answered quickly, stepping into the living room for privacy. "Hey, Chelsea, is everything okay? " "Yes, actually. " His ex-wife's voice was bright, energized, in a way he had not heard in years. I am calling with good news. I got a job offer at the Portland Art Museum, a curatorial position with a path to senior curator within 2 years. It is exactly what I have been working toward Derek and it means I would be moving back to Portland.
Derek's hand tightened on the phone. You are moving back here? I am planning to. Yes. Chelsea took a breath.
I have been thinking about it for a while now. Even before this job came up, I have regretted not being more present in Lily's life. Seeing her twice a month is not enough. I want to be a real mom to her, not just a visitor. This job is the perfect opportunity.
That is Derek struggled to process. That is great, Chelsea. Lily would love to see you more often. There is something else I wanted to talk to you about. Her voice softened and something in Derek's chest went cold.