Taking another deep breath, I push all of my emotions and feelings down so I can continue. “On October 23 of 1993—”I don’t miss the way he winces slightly at the fast-approaching date. “—there’s a bad storm, and two brothers end up near the edge of the cliff here?—”
“How?” he asks, his lips pulled together in a straight line, concern written all over his face.
“I-I don’t know. I think their family was visiting, and they somehow ended up here, and, well, you saved them. Apparently, you couldn’t pull yourself up from the ledge as well as them, so you told them to run home. By the time the police came, you were… gone.”
He’s as white as a ghost, all the colour drained from his face. Lifeless eyes look anywhere but at mine, and he swallows. “Do they ever find me?”
“No. I’m sorry, Dylan.” He’s white-knuckling me even tighter now. “You didn’t make it out of the water. They say your body probably washed out to sea.”
“Okay.” He rubs his jaw anxiously. “But the boys, they lived?”
“Yes!” I exclaim. “You saved them. You were a hero. That’s how you’re remembered.”
He pauses, and I can see he’s in his head right now, taking a minute to digest everything and come to terms with what I’ve told him. I stroke his head, tucking his wavy hair behind his ear.
“Okay,” he says again, sounding a bit more like himself now. “At least I was able to keep them safe. Then it’s not all for nothing.” A lone tear rolls down his cheek, and I catch it with my thumb and wipe it away. He turns his head and kisses it.
“There’s got to be something we can do, Dylan.” I can’t handle how he’s just accepting this. I finally have him, and I’m going to lose him, and he isfinewith it. “We haveto try.”
“Did you talk to Iris about this?” he asks, surely aware that I have.
“Yes,” I confess quietly.
“And what did she say?”
You can’t change the past, my dear.
“Sh-she didn’t know if we could do anything—but that doesn’t mean we can’t try!” I plead with him.
“I need to think about all of this, Lucy. This is a lot to take in right now.” He tilts his head and asks, “How long have you known?”
“I found out about it after the first time we met—but I didn’t know who you were at the time. I learned about the lighthouse from my friend. Then, when I talked to Iris for the first time, I realizedyouare the lighthouse keeper I read about.” I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my sweater, nervously awaiting his response to everything I’ve kept from him.
“You’ve knownthatlong and didn’t say anything?” He lets out a forceful breath and loosens his grip on my sides. “If-if it’s okay with you, Luce, I need to go for a walk. Clear my head before?—”
My face falls, and he quickly adds, “Please don’t go anywhere. Can you wait for me? I just need to be alone for a minute. This is…” He rests his head on my knees, and a shudder escapes him. “A lot to process.”
“Yeah—yes, of course.” I pet his head and kiss the crown of it, trying to pour all of my love into him. I want him to feel it. Ineedhim to. To feel less alone, knowing that someone loves him so deeply. Finally, his head lifts, and he offers the slightest upward curl of his lips. It doesn’t meet his eyes, but it’s something. And considering everything he just learned, it’s more than I could have expected. Then he gives my knee a squeeze and pushes himselfoff the bed.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says as he turns to leave, his eyes glistening. “Please, Luce, wait for me.”
“Always,” I whisper, my vision blurring. I blink away tears and offer a half smile before he turns and walks down the stairs, out of sight.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Waiting for him to come back feels like an eternity. It’s as if someone flipped an hourglass, saying they’d return when all the sand fell—only the sand isn’t sand at all; it’s mud, thick and slow, barely slipping through the tiny hole. I lie in bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling. Then, when I can’t lie on my back anymore, I sit up as my eyes scan around the room, looking for anything to distract myself with. I spotThe Giveron his nightstand and pull the book out, flipping open to the dog-eared page, reading a bit to feel like he’s with me.
After three chapters, I can’t stay on the bed anymore. I need to get up and move or something. So, I stand and pace the room, my feet wearing into the dark wooden floors, filled with a lifetime of scratches and discolouration. From Dylan, his father, and I’m sure from Grant whenever he lived here. Looking down at the wood panels beneath me is like a time capsule. All the people before it are gone, but the floor remains, their marks left for the next person.
There won’t be a next person after Dylan.
That rings true for me in more ways than one.
Shaking my head, I make my way over to the bathroom at the other end of the room. I strip down to nothing on my walk there, leaving a trail of clothes in my wake, and push open the door. Turning on the faucet to the shower, I wait until the room fills with steam and the water is hot enough to turn my pale skin pink. Then I step inside the tub and close the curtain. The water burns as I tip my head back and let it fall down my hair and over my face. There’s something cathartic about it, the hot water giving me momentary peace and a distraction from everything else going on right now.
I’m pulled out of my trance by the shower curtain rustling beside me as a large, tanned hand grips the vinyl fabric, pulling it open.Dylan. I breathe a little easier. He stands, eyes grazing over my naked body. I don’t hide anything from him. I stand there, staring back as the water continues to fall, the steam acting like a fog as it causes us to slowly disappear from each other’s view. As if we’re hidden from the outside world. In here, it’s only us. He grabs his shirt with one hand and pulls it up and over his head, then takes the waistband of his joggers and drops them onto the ground. Boxers go next. When he’s naked and standing in front of me, I gasp, taking in the sight of this beautifully built man. It’s like he’s a statue that has been carved out of stone, all hard, chiselled pieces—there’s nothing soft about him.
He steps into the shower with me, and I move to give him space under the water. He’s chilled from being outside, and the palms of his hands are cold as they grab the warmed skin of my waist. I close the curtain behind him, and he wraps me in a tender embrace, bringing his lips to the crown of my head. I close my eyes and bask in the tender moment together.
