Me too, I think sadly. And nothing has scared me more.
Chapter Thirty-One
The next morning, we wake up tangled together in the soft, warm sheets. Memories of his lips all over my body sit at the forefront of my mind. I bask in the feel of his arm around me and his chin resting on top of my head.
Right now, we could be any other couple. A regular couple, waking up on a Sunday morning with plans of farmer’s markets and brunch on their minds. Unfortunately, that’s not the case for us. And as fun as last night was, how much I want it to keep happening, I still can’t stop thinking about everything I know and the situation that we’re in.
“You’re in your head. I can tell,” he muses from above.
“You can’t even see me,” I laugh, hugging him closer, not ready for any of this to end. He tilts my chin up and kisses me, soft and sweet this time. Our lips brush ever so slightly, and I can’t believe I have to go back to 2025 today. To leave him again.
“I like to think I know you by now, Luce,” he responds, and I think he’s right. He does know me. And I know him.
I kiss his nose before finally peeling myself away from him. “You might be right,” I say as I sit up to get out of bed. “Let’s get some coffee.”
Instead of having our coffee on the couch like we usually do, Dylan brings both of our mugs upstairs to the top of the lighthouse, and we sit on some fold-up chairs and look out at the ocean together. The sun is out and casts a bright golden light over the open water as it rises higher in the sky. There must not be much wind right now because the water seems eerily calm, waves lapping lightly as they make their way to the rocky shore below us. He gives the lens in the centre of the room its usual clean before pulling his chair up next to mine and lacing my fingers in his.
Squeeze. Sip.
My heart flutters.
“Hey, I never asked you,” Dylan starts as he stares out at the ocean.
“Yeah?” I ask, with no clue what he’s about to say.
“In your year, I’d be what, sixty-three?” He pauses and takes a slow sip of his coffee before continuing. “Do you know if I still live in town? I’m assuming I’m not a lighthouse keeper anymore since you said that isn’t a thing in 2025.” He pauses again and rubs his thumb over the sharp chip on his mug. “Have you ever tried to find me in your time? Am I… happy?”
“Um,” is all I can bring myself to say. How do I answer this question? How do I tell him he’s not alive anymore? Do I keep lying, or is this my moment to tell him the truth?
“I’m a grumpy old man, aren’t I?” He nervously chuckles. “Have I lost all my hair?” He runs his hand through his long, thick locks, trying to get a reaction out of me.
I give him nothing.
“Luce?” he asks, concern settling on his face. “What aren’t you telling me?”
My eyes shift from him to the view and back again. My pulse quickens, and there’s an immediate tightness in my chest. I take a deep breath and place my coffee down on the floor beside me, then turn toward him.
“I haven’t seen you in my year,” I start cautiously. “And the reason for that is…” I can’t stop the tears from falling down my face as I get ready to admit something to him that I still don’t even believe myself. He squeezes my hand and waits for me to finish. “You d-died, Dylan.” I choke on a sob that gets caught in my throat.
Died.
I stand up and leave, unable to function or breathe. I take the stairs two at a time and run over to his bed, falling into it and silently crying into the closest pillow. It feels like everything is caving in on me all at once, and I’m letting out every bottled-up emotion I’ve held on to since I first learned about this. As my body shakes, a warm hand rests on my back and rubs soothingly while I sob.
God, whileIsob. How selfish can I be? I’m not the one who just learned theydie, and here I am, forcing him to comfort me.Get a grip, Lucy.Taking a breath, I steady my shaking and bring myself up to a seat on the bed, my knees tucked under my chin as I wrap my arms around my shins.
“Hey,” he offers quietly, as he gently palms my knee.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper as tears continue to roll down my cheeks. I sniffle and wipe my nose with the sleeve of my pink sweatshirt. So unattractive, but I don’t even care. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and I think admitting it out loud to him has been a sudden release for my body and emotions. He leans over toward me and lightly kisses myforehead, the tip of my nose, and then finally places a peck on my shuddering lips.
“I love you, Dylan,” I say without thinking. “Holy shit.” I cover my mouth with my hand, shocked that the phrase left my lips without my brain giving it the okay. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I tell him, the words racing off my tongue, trying to take back what I just admitted to him, fearful that he doesn’t feel the same way about me.
“Lucy,” his voice rasps. It’s deep and gruff, and he grabs my face in his hands and pulls me in for a kiss, my lips eagerly parting to greet his. He pulls away and locks his emerald eyes on mine. “You are magic. I love you too. Sofuckingmuch.” He traces a finger over my cheek and adds, “You have no idea.”
How is it I feel both overjoyed and utterly heartbroken simultaneously, hearing those words from him? It’s like I’m staring at the person and the life Icouldhave and Iwantto have, but in less than two months, it’s going to be ripped away from me, leaving me all alone, knowing what life with him was like, but lost forever.
“I want to do a lot of things right now to commemorate what we’ve both just said,” he tells me as he wraps his legs around me and laces his fingers behind my back. “But can you please talk to me about what you said earlier? How I—” He swallows. “Die.”
“Okay.” Everything in me wants to look away from him when I say this. I don’t know that I can handle telling him this while staring into his beautiful eyes, but I know I have to. I owe it to him to have this conversation and not lose it while doing so.
