She looks up at me with pleading eyes and tilts her head for a moment. “It’s been over twenty years now, and it still feels like yesterday. I’ve never had a love so great. Tell me, dear, am I as heartbroken in my seventies as I am now?”
I go back and forth in my head, trying to decide how to answer her. Do I lie and say she’s fine to spare her heart right now, or do I tell her the truth? That, no, she isn’t fine. That she still wears that ring, still aches for a man who’s been dead for the majority of her life.
“I know you still miss him. And think about him,” is all I can bring myself to tell her. It’s true enough.
“Okay,” she whispers as she puts the handkerchief back in her pocket and pulls her long, dark hair back into a braid to get it off her face. “So now that we’ve told each other everything, why are youhere?”
“Almost everything,” I interject, rubbing the tops of my thighs with my hands to brace myself for what I’m about to say. “Dylan is supposed to die. Well… he does. Die. In a bad storm, saving two boys. In October.”
“Oh,” is all she says, but her eyes are wide, magnified through her thin, circular frames.
Tomorrow is September first.
“But… he doesn’t know that.” I look down at my hands and then back at Iris. Her head is tilted slightly to the right, but she says nothing. “I should tell him. I mean, IthinkI should tell him. But you told me that I can’t change the past. That whatever is meant to happen will happen. So a part of me doesn’t know if Ishouldtell Dylan—” My voice quivers, and I have to stop and take a few deep breaths. “—if, in the end, I can’t do anything to save his life.”
Iris is quiet beside me. She takes a thin, pale hand and places it on my shaky one while she looks out at the ocean. “You love this boy?”
Love?I’ve only known him for a month. I can’t possibly love someone after such a short amount of time. Come to think of it, I’ve never even beenin lovebefore. Sure, I’ve dated and had my fair share of boyfriends over the years, but none of them have made me feel the way Dylan does. None of them have driven me crazy like him. None have sparred with me the way he does or made my heart race with just one look. One smirk. None of them have occupied my every thought and spare moment—the urge to see him stronger than my own urge to breathe.
God, maybe Idolove him.
I love Dylan.
Holy shit, I’m in love with Dylan Hart.
A lighthouse keeper in 1993.
“I-I think I do,” I whisper, placing my head in my hands,resting my elbows on my lap. “I love him, and not only does he live in another time, but in less than two months, he’s going to die. And he doesn’t even know it.” If only repeating it made it easier to accept. Tears fill my eyes, and as I blink, they fall down my cheeks and over my lips, cold and salty like the ocean in front of me.
Iris pulls me in for a hug, her willowy body pressing into me as she does her best to hold me tight. I quietly sob into her, letting out all of my fears and worries and frustrations that have been building up inside my chest. It’s like I’ve finally cracked open, and everything is pouring out all at once.
“Shh, it’s okay, dear,” she whispers as she tenderly strokes my hair. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
I take another breath and bite my lip. It’s nice to know I have someone in my corner here. Someone who knows exactly what I’m going through. Who’s been through it herself. I don’t know that I could tell anyone else without sounding like a lunatic. I don’t even know if the portal would allow someone else inside or if it can only be me. There’s still so much unknown about the magic of it all.
“Do you think I should tell him?” I ask, the question burning in the back of my mind. Thedo I, or don’t I? Both choices come with their own set of pros and cons. Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.
“I can’t make that decision for you, Lucy.” Iris’s steely blue eyes are sad and conflicted as she answers me. I don’t think she even knows the right thing to do in this situation. “But if you decide to tell him, you need to have a plan for afterwards. Do you leave? Do you stay? Do you try to help him accept hisfate? Be ready for how he might take it. He could be angry and scared. He might not believe you. Youneed to decide how to be there for him,ifyou even want to be there.”
“I’m not leaving him,” I say firmly. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Is it wise to continue this relationship with him?” she ponders, stroking Grant’s ring once more. My thoughts flash back to his lips on mine, the way his hands felt, tight around my waist. Kissing like our time was running out.
It is.
I touch my lips while Iris continues. “Take it from me, the heartache doesn’t just go away. It’s a wound that doesn’t clot. It’s open and raw, constantly exposed to the harsh air. Never-ending pain.”
“We’re friends right now. Nothing more,” I say a little too quickly, last night still fresh on my mind. “That’s all we will be. I’ll make sure of it.”
“We’ll see…” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her. I choose to ignore that comment because I don’t think I have a good argument to back myself up with.
We sit for a while longer, watching the sun as it climbs higher into the sky, sipping our drinks and not saying anything else. When we finish, I grab both of our cups and toss them into the trash can beside me.
“I should head back now,” I tell her as I move to leave. “Are you coming?”
“No,” she says wistfully. “I’m going to stay here.” She stares off into the ocean and adds, “Will you come back?”
“Yes.”
