Ty.
“Okay. I guess you’re telling me he’s the answer.” No, not the answer. That wasn’t the right word.
Ty was the joy her grandmother had spoken of. The good that buoyed the bad. He’d always been that for her. But joy felt safer in small doses. When she didn’t grow to depend on it. To expect it.
“I just don’t want to hurt, but I guess I’ve been hurting the past few days anyway, haven’t I?” she whispered into the wind.
She felt another little nudge. And she laughed, couldn’t help it. “Okay, okay. I’ll…” She inhaled deeply and slid off the rock. What was she going to do?
She loved him. That was never the question. The question was how much she was willing to open herself up to more hurt, more loss.
And still he’d cut to the quick back at the museum that night, in a way she hadn’t been able to get out of her head.We’re allgoing to die someday, Lara. Is it really going to hurt less if you’re just my friend?
She wanted to believe that by keeping him at arm’s length she could mitigate that pain. Control the outcomes.
But losing him would always hurt. Would bring the same grief losing her family had. Grandma had told her to think about losing her someday. Because she would.
Change was coming, no matter how hard she fought it. What if she embraced it instead? Found the good and surmounted the bad.
It was the only choice, after all.
Nerves thrumming, she took the first step toward him. And after the first step, it was easy. It was so easy to rush toward him because…
It was always him. Ty Wagner meant the world to her, and yes, that scared her. Maybe it always would.
But she could be like Grandma. Brave in the face of loss. She could reach out for joy to buoy the grief.
When she reached him, she didn’t stop. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezed even as he stood stock still.
“I love you,” she murmured into his chest.
“I know that, but—” He pulled her back so he was frowning at her, but she didn’t let him finish his but.
“No, Ty. I really love you.” She looked up at him and let it all out. Without trying to protect herself from how the words hurt. Without being afraid of the change those words might enact. “You were right. It’s always been you, and I’ve been scared. I’ve been a lot of things. But you have always been my favorite person. You’ve always felt like home. And when you kissed me…I’ve never felt anything like that before. Like something was meant to be. Like you were mine to have, no matter what. It’s why… I thought I should stop it, but I didn’twantto. It was never aboutwantingto.”
His expression hadn’t changed. There was a wariness in his blue eyes. Like he didn’t quite believe her.
But she needed him to. She needed… She needed him. To be her joy. To be her grief. To hold her hand. To behers.
“I hate being without you. I hate when you’re not here. I told myself it was better that way because it helped me carry the weight of it, but it was just…a coping mechanism. And not a healthy one.”
He still didn’t seem particularly moved. “So what are you saying?”
She swallowed. Nerves and fear and worry battling it out in her throat. But wouldn’t those things be here even if she tried to be just friends with him again? Worry that she’d lose him. Fear that it could never be the same.
She wouldn’t wait for change to knock her out. She’d change things for the better. She could sell her paintings and love Ty and build something with joy. Shecould. Because even in loss there was pink sunsets and ghost touches and dinners where Ty hugged her because he was proud of her, and times when he did thingsforher that were really the best thing forhim.
“I’m saying that… I want to build something with you, Ty. I want to love you in all the ways I’ve been afraid to. I don’t want to be afraid of the good. Because you were right, losing you hurts no matter when, where or how. It always will, no matter how hard I try to manage it. I don’t want to manage it.” She grabbed his hands. “I just want you.”
“What made you change your mind?” When she started to gesture back at the museum, he shook his head. “Don’t say ghosts.” But he dropped his forehead to hers, his grip on her hands tightening.
“They didn’t change my mind. They just gave me a few nudges.” She reached up, put her palms to his cheeks. “Grandmadid too. And you gave me a few more. I needed them. I’ll probably keep needing them.”
He looked down at her, those blue eyes dark and intense. “I’ll give you however many you need if you keep loving me.”
“I can’t remember when I haven’t loved you, Ty. And I don’t plan on stopping. Ever.” Because love was bigger than time. Than loss. Love buoyed the grief.
So she’d never let it go.
