Chapter 25
The world felt different now. A little quieter, a little more uncertain. But despite the heavy grief that still lingered in your heart, there was something new, something brighter on the horizon—a partnership with Vi that was slowly but surely coming together. In the aftermath of the loss of your grandpa, it was easy to get caught up in the heaviness of everything. But Vi, with her ever-steadfast presence, had a way of keeping you grounded, of gently pulling you out of the darkness and into the light, even if it was just a little bit at a time.
Vi had always been brash, bold, and fiercely protective. She carried herself with an unapologetic confidence, one that many admired but few dared to approach. But with you, she was softer. A little more patient. She knew you were still grieving, knew there were moments when the weight of your grandpa's passing would hit you like a wave, but she never pushed you to be more than what you were at that moment. Still, she wanted to help you rebuild, and in doing so, she began to rebuild herself too.
It started with small things. The two of you working side by side at her shop, repairing bikes, talking business. But it was more than that—it was the foundation of something new, something that felt like it could last.
The mornings were the hardest. You would wake up, the silence of the room greeting you like an old friend, and for a moment, the absence of your grandpa would hang in the air. But then, you'd feel the warmth of Vi beside you, the weight of her arm around your waist, and you'd remember: you weren't alone. Vi was here. Vi would always be here. And together, you would face whatever came next.
As the days passed, you began to feel a shift within yourself. The heavy burden of grief that had clung to you like a second skin started to lighten. You still had bad days, of course. Days when the pain of losing your grandpa would catch you off guard, leaving you paralyzed with sorrow. But those days were becoming fewer, and in their place, there was work. There was purpose.
Vi had started expanding her business, and with your help, things were beginning to take shape in ways neither of you could have imagined. The shop, once a small, modest operation, was now buzzing with potential. More clients came in, more bikes to fix, more projects to take on. Vi's reputation as a mechanic and fighter had always preceded her, but now, with you by her side, there was a new energy in the air. You were building something together—something lasting.
You didn't know the first thing about mechanics when you first started working with Vi. At best, you were a quick learner, watching her with an attentive eye as she taught you how to take apart an engine, how to fix a busted chain, how to weld. You were grateful for her patience, for the way she never made you feel incompetent, never once made you think you couldn't do it.
"Let's see what you've got today," Vi would say, a teasing glint in her eyes as she tossed you a wrench.
And though you were still getting the hang of it, you began to feel the satisfaction that came with fixing something, with creating something with your hands. There was a certain pride that came with it, and every day, you found yourself getting a little bit better. Your confidence in the shop grew, and so did your confidence in yourself.
It was the same when it came to expanding the business. Vi had always been the one to run the show, to make the decisions, but now, with your help, the two of you were making a bigger impact. You helped with organizing the finances, setting up new partnerships, and even reaching out to local businesses to see if they were interested in a partnership. There was a new rhythm to your days, one that involved collaboration, one that felt like you were both contributing equally.
One afternoon, as the sun began to set, you and Vi sat on the small porch of the shop, a worn-out workbench between you, your tools scattered around you like a second home. The air was cool, the streetlights flickering on in the distance. The quiet hum of the city was comforting, like the whole world was winding down for the night.
Vi leaned back against the wall, her muscular arms resting on her knees, her pink hair falling loosely around her face. You could see the way her tattoos shifted with every movement, the ink a map of her past. Her eyes were warm, a soft intensity that you were learning to read better with every day that passed. She was still the same Vi—fierce, strong, brash—but now there was something different about her. A softness, a quiet joy that seemed to bloom in the spaces between the moments when the work was done and you were just two people sharing a quiet evening together.
"You know," she began, her voice low, "I never thought this would be how things turned out."
You looked over at her, your gaze searching. "What do you mean?"
Vi gave you a small smile, one that only you could see. "I've been running this shop for years, but I always did it on my own. It was always just me—fixing bikes, making deals, handling everything myself. But having you here..." She paused, her gaze drifting to the street ahead, as if she were looking for the right words. "It's different now. It's better. I didn't realize how much I needed someone to share this with until you showed up."
You felt your heart swell, but you didn't know what to say. You hadn't expected her words to hit you like that. Instead, you just smiled, the quiet weight of your shared history between you, the unspoken understanding of the road you'd traveled together. You had become something more than just a couple—you were partners. You were building something together.
"You're not so bad to work with either," you teased, nudging her with your shoulder. "I might even get used to you."
Vi chuckled, her laugh a low rumble in her chest. "I'm not that bad, huh? Good to know."
The conversation shifted, as it often did, to future plans. The expansion of the business, the new clients, the dream of opening a second location. Every step was a small victory, every new challenge an opportunity to grow together. You and Vi had always been good at working as a team, but this felt different. You weren't just surviving anymore; you were thriving.
As the days went by, you found yourself getting lost in the work. The grief was still there, lurking in the background, but the moments when it hit you were becoming fewer. The pain of losing your grandpa would always be with you, but it wasn't all-consuming. You were learning how to live with it, how to honor his memory by building something that would make him proud. You could almost hear his voice in the back of your mind, telling you to keep going, to keep moving forward. And with Vi by your side, you felt like you could.
The weekends became your time to recharge and refocus, but they were also your time to be together, to enjoy the life you were building. Whether it was grabbing lunch at a local diner or just sitting together at the shop, the two of you had found a rhythm. There was joy in it, even in the quiet moments. Even when you weren't speaking, just being near each other was enough.
One evening, after a particularly long day of work, you both found yourselves sitting on the hood of the car, watching the sun dip below the horizon. It had been one of those days where everything had gone right, where you'd hit a new milestone, and it felt like the world was opening up before you. You leaned against Vi's shoulder, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you, and she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.
"This is the life, huh?" you said softly, the words tasting like something you had been waiting to say for a long time.
Vi looked down at you, her face softening, her gaze gentle. "Yeah, it is. It's ours. We're building it together."
You let out a sigh, one that carried both relief and joy. The grief wasn't gone, but you were no longer drowning in it. You were starting to live again, starting to create something that would carry you through the tough times. And for the first time since your grandpa's passing, you felt like you could breathe a little easier.
Together, you and Vi were building something lasting, something worth fighting for. It wasn't always easy, and there would be days when the world seemed heavy again, but for now, you were content. And that, in itself, felt like a victory.