“Fuck it.” I smirked. “Where do you want to go?”
“With you. Anywhere with you,” he said as he pulled me in and kissed my neck. I giggled like someone who had never been handled that gently before. Because I hadn’t.
I had never been treated so softly, so romantically.
Thinking about it, I leaned back just enough to look at him.
“I think I know a place.”
Epilogue
Rachel
Eight weeks later
Standing at the podium, I looked out into the intimate and quaint crowd as I assessed the people here. I swallowed down nerves I had been bottling up for this moment, took a sip of water, and stepped closer to the microphone.
“Thank you all for being here today,” I began.
“I stand before you, honoured to speak about someone who meant more to me than I ever expected they would—Lennon Becker.”
A lump formed in my throat. I paused, unable to clear it. I grabbed the glass of crystal clear water, took another sip, and inhaled a deep breath, steadying myself.
“Several years ago, Lennon was introduced to me by a hospital social worker. She had been in and out of the foster care system—a system that failed her over and over again. From that point on, I met with Lennon each week, as her first, and only, psychotherapist. I—uh, never really thought we would be here, if I’m being honest.”
I glanced out into the crowd and caught sight of Blythe Graves. She nodded gently, encouraging me to keep going forward.
Turning my head toward the notes that I scribbled down with recklessness, I gulped and started again.
“Lennon had wanted to die for as long as I’d known her. While her story is complicated and layered, that’s not what I want to focus on today. Lennon’s life took an upward swing when she joined the Assisted Suicide for Mental Health program. And not for reasons in which you might think.”
The room stilled, attentively listening to the darkest parts that they may not have been privy to.
“It was a rigorous program. She was required to attend group therapy, partner with a stranger, and create sort of a ‘bucket list’ of experiences deemed worth living through at least once. That is where she met the love of her life, the one she so desperately deserved in this lifetime, Asher Graves.”
Peering out into the crowd, I felt my stride pick up. This was beautiful and tragic all the same.
“Asher was a bright light. A beacon for Lennon. Once they completed their initial list together, they decided to keep the inspiration alive. They planned an elaborate trip to Jordan, to visit the Dead Sea as a part of a continuation of everything they began to build together.
“Getting to know Lennon over the past several years has been an incredible privilege. But, bearing witness to watching her fall in love…” I exhale shakily. “That was even more beautiful than I ever could have anticipated it would ever be.”
I peered out into the crowd with a steady smile on my face.
“Asher Graves passed away on January sixteenth, peacefully, with Lennon Becker by his side. Her lifeline to life itself was taken away. It had taken me a steady pacing of time, but I think I have finally processed this in a way that I can ultimately see the beauty inside the tragedy, for Lennon’s sake.
“She was determined to leave this world in a way that caused the least amount of harm. And against my own professionalboundaries and practice, I selfishly tried to persuade Lennon to stay here with us.
“Without Asher, Lennon likely would have left this world in early October—her original date attached to the Assisted Suicide for Mental Health Program, but her lifeline was extended because of the love he wrapped her up in.”
I hadn’t realized, but the tears were pooling down my cheeks as I spoke about the tragedy of it all that I was so intertwined with.
“Lennon was a beautiful, young woman, who was careful about who she allowed into her inner circle. She allowed no one she didn’t trust within proximity to her. There were many traits she possessed that I found bravery within, including her will to keep moving forward until she was no longer able to.”
I retrieved an envelope from underneath the speech notes.
“Lennon left me a note to share with you. I believe it perfectly captures her heart better than I ever could.”
I unfolded the paper carefully. I opened it to view her handwriting, her penmanship slightly shaky and unsteady while writing such vulnerable words.
