That evening I drove to the river restaurant, the same one with warm bread and soft music. The waiter recognized me now and led me to a table by the window.

“The usual?” he asked.

“Please.”

While I waited, I looked at my reflection in the glass. The woman there wore a simple green dress and a small, steady smile. Her hair was loose. Her hands were still.

I thought about the girl who had once believed peace was something you bought by paying.

Then I thought about the woman who had learned it was something you built, slowly and without apology, with your own two hands.

When my food arrived, I lifted my glass of water, cool and clear and entirely mine.

“To paying attention,” I said quietly.

And outside the window, the river carried the sunset toward the sea.

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.

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