Spinning Out

Epilogue

NATHAN

I tear open the plastic and watch the ice fall over the sodas in the ice chest. Small droplet of freezing water jumps up onto my skin. The scar on my wrist is fading each year but will never be gone forever. That night will always be with me, no matter how much time passes.

"Do you need help with anything else?" I shout to Jaina.

I push my hand into the chest and burry the soda's that are on top. I'm used to beers being around at parties, but this one will be alcohol free.

"Can you grab this salad?" Jaina answers from the kitchen of her small apartment.

We always used to talk about how we would live together when we grew up. We imagined how we would decorate—or how she would and how I would learn to love it—and how fun it would be to never have a curfew when we were together. We would stick glow-in-the-dark stars to our ceiling and always have chocolate in the cupboard. I laugh with the thought.

"What so funny?" she asks as she hands me the large salad bowl.

"I was just thinking about our plans to live together," I share.

"Well, you're the one who moved to Colorado," she tells me.

She's not wrong. It took a little longer than I had planned to transfer to the University of Colorado to work on my PhD, but I love it there. Jaina has always been a California girl and would hate the snow.

"I know," I say, walking the food out to the patio. "It's just crazy how different life ended up."

The loud growl of an engine makes us both smile. This is where she was meant to be. Our paths will always be close together, but we will walk them with other people as well.

"Elijah is so happy. He couldn't even sleep, " she says. She makes a few adjustments to the silverware on the old, hand-me-down table and then heads to their front door to greet them.

None of us had any idea what today would look like as we left that courthouse almost four years ago. I never would have guessed that I would become friends with the man that almost killed me. It is his story that has driven my education and career. The letter he wrote me was compelling. It was part of his fourth step in his alcohol treatment program. I had already forgiven him, but it was nice to hear he was finding something of value in his treatment. I wrote him back, and then he wrote me and before I knew it, we were developing a friendship. The stories he shared from prison made me realize there was a lot of work that could be done to help those who had made one mistake and were locked into a system trying to recover. I recently moved to Colorado to continue my work in Criminal Psychology.

"Hey there here!" Jaina shouts.

The door swings open and I can see Elijah and Bryant step into the small space. This type of thing should be so normal—just a group of friends having a BBQ on a summer weekend. It takes a minute for us all to process the gravity of what's happening, but then Jaina moves to Bryant and wraps him in a hug. I follow. Elijah watches, smiling at a moment he probably could have never dreamed happening years ago. And then it's normal. We grab the burgers and move to the patio where we eat and swap stories and catch up on the things in our life that are too long to write about in the prison emails to Bryant or quick texts to each other.

One night sealed us together, but we have our whole futures to defy the odds and make something meaningful out of the randomness of that encounter. I, for one, am looking forward to it.