THERE’S SOMETHING TO BE SAID FOR ANONYMITY. Having no contact with family or other people from my past is incredibly freeing. It’s remarkably easy to disappear. Hiding online is simple, and that safety is immeasurable.
It does occur to me that my mother and sister could find me if they wanted to, but I’ve heard no word from either of them. Part of me has been waiting for them to snap into shape, for the shock of my absence to have shaken them into mental health. It’s unlikely. I know. However much I like the emotional and physical distance between us, I have thought about calling them. Guilt washes over me each time I consider it, but I suppose it’s normal to wish I could have a relationship with my family. I’ve taken to doing online searches for my father, and I can’t tell if I’m happy or tormented that I can’t find one thing about him.
What helps counterbalance disappointment in my own family is the joy of having Sam as part of my new world.
Sam and I just had dinner in town with Kelly and April, both of whom I absolutely adore.
Now that we’re into July, the streets have filled up with vacationing families, couples, hiking and boating enthusiasts, and weekenders looking to escape Boston or New York for a long weekend.
The inn has been packed, so Sam has had plenty of work to do. I go in and help out, too, a few days a week. It’s an excuse to spend time with Felicia and Micah, whom I’ve grown very fond of, and I like working the dining room and readying guest rooms. Felicia scolds me because I won’t take her money, but I haven’t been able to get Sam to cash any of my rent checks, so fair is fair.
At his parents’ insistence, Sam has the day off tomorrow, and because I just finished three graphic projects for clients, I’m giving myself a day, too. Sam raved so much about the work I’d completed until I was full-on blushing and actually feeling quite proud of myself. Sam is going to take me on a short hike to Seal Cove, and if we’re lucky, we’ll actually get to see seals sunning themselves on rocks, which I would absolutely love.
I’m watching Sam fold laundry now, noticing what neat piles he makes as he stacks shirts and pants on the couch in his living room. The dichotomy between the side of him that is so rough and rugged and dirty when he works on the house or helps on fishing boats with this softer, more domestic side intrigues me. It’s the death tripper in him versus the sensitive, gentle human being.
I lean back into the armchair and look up at the ceiling. “Nice job with the lights, Bishop.”
He smiles. “Glad you like them.”
Hundreds of pale white and pink glowing balls hang in the air above us, spreading a soft hue over the room. Each is smaller than a golf ball, and they move a bit as though not entirely stable, but it gives them a look of life and personality. Over the past few weeks, Sam has been playing around with his new light power, and he’s found that he has a lot more control than he has had in the past. I also enjoy pushing him to try new things, and I find what he can do utterly enchanting.
“Think you can light up the fireplace, too? It’s cool again tonight.”
“It is not that cold, silly. But whatever the lady wants…”
He focuses on the hearth, and I turn to watch. Eight deep purple and pale violet orbs appear and bounce in the fireplace. Sam sets down the sweater he’s folding and goes to the lights. When he swipes a hand through them, they burst like bubbles and shift to look like flames. Immediately, I feel the heat radiate, and I move next to him by the fire and lie down on the rug. The colors are beyond beautiful, vibrant. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen in the real world before.
It’s taken work for me to process that death tripping is real, to reconcile that the world as I understood it actually includes something as unbelievable as what Sam and Costa can do. But my only choice is to accept it, which I can do because of how much Sam means to me and because he’s made such an effort to ground me even in this whirlwind.
Sam lies down behind me and puts an arm over my waist. “Too hot?” he asks.
“Maybe a little.”
An arctic blast shoots from the fireplace. “Sorry, sorry!” Sam puts out a hand, and the temperature levels to a comfortable warmth. “Got a little carried away there.”
I roll onto my back and look up at Sam. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
“Because I make light?” The corners of his eyes crinkle adorably as he smiles and leans in to quickly kiss me.
“Because you make everything.” I brush back his hair, now streaked with more blond and auburn because of his time in the sun, and I run the back of my hand over his tan face.
“Stella…” he starts. “I can’t believe you’re with me. After everything.”
“You’re with me, too. After allmyeverythings. I told you before that we both have a past.”
“And one of us has a rather strange present.”
“Weare the present, and it’s beautiful.” I tug on his T-shirt and bring him close.
Every time we kiss, my whole being reacts so strongly, like it’s the first time that we’ve done this. I can’t get used to the strength of our attraction, but I don’t mind. While there is familiarity and comfort in his kiss, it’s also equally exciting and dizzying.
“I love you, Stella. With every part of me, I love you.”
This is the first time he’s said that. I said it when he was in my arms, bleeding and dying, but I haven’t said it since. I didn’t know if it was allowed, if I should dare say it outside of a crisis. But now, he’s said it. He’s made it real.
“And I love you, Sam. I am so clear when I’m with you.”
“Even with the world I’ve shown you?”
