Page 149 of Anything But Lonely

And Cross My Heart getting back together is just the cherry on top.

“We just couldn’t stay away,” Silas says into his microphone, and everyone cheers.

“And we’re honored to be a part of such an important day,” Theo adds.

Mateo’s face is bright as he takes in the crowd. He looks at Theo and Silas like he can’t believe they’re real, and for a moment, I think I see the version of Mateo from all those years ago. On stage, with his best friends, doing what they love.

He turns over his shoulder, nodding in Eddie’s direction. Eddie taps his drumsticks together three times, and Cross My Heart dives into their set, playing song after song, taking requests from the crowd, bringing out covers from the archives, laughing as they sing the songs they haven’t sang in years.

And my cheeks hurt from how much I’m smiling.

At some point, Crew tugs at my skirt, and I lift him into my arms, swaying with him to the music. His head falls against my shoulder, his little arms wrapped around my neck, and together we watch his dad.

I know this is a moment I’ll come back to on the hard days—the ones when grief feels heavier than I can carry, when I need a reminder of why I keep going.

Because I know what it’s like to not want to be here anymore.

I know what it’s like to become so numb that your own mind starts convincing you there’s no way forward, that maybe the pain is all there is. I know what it’s like to forget that life can still surprise you.

But I know something else now, too.

I know these are the moments we hold on for. The quiet ones and the impossible ones. The ones filled with music and laughter and the people who love us. The moments that remind us that even after the worst days, there are still good ones waiting.

And this—Crew in my arms, Mateo in front of me, my mom’s name carrying through a crowd of people who refuse to let her be forgotten—is one of them.

EXTENDED EPILOGUE: FIVE YEARS LATER

MATEO

“Trick or treat!”

“No, Benny,” Crew complains, slapping his head against his forehead. “You’re supposed to wait until they answer the door.”

“But you said to say it after we ring the doorbell.” Benny, Jack and Rumi’s four-year-old daughter, crosses her arms over her little chest. Her voice is a little muffled behind her Spider-Gwen mask she insisted on wearing once she found out Crew was dressing up as Spider-Man.

Crew shakes his head, lifting his mask up, and I see the way his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. At ten years old, he’s the oldest of the kids out trick-or-treating tonight, since Georgie stayed in the dorms to celebrate Halloween with her friends, and the little kids often test his patience.

“Benny,” Evee says with a laugh, coming to Crew’s rescue, “if you don’t wait for them to open their door, then you don’t get the candy.” She places a hand on Benny’s shoulder.

“They need to be able to hear you,” Eliana adds from where she’s standing next to Evee. The two are dressed up as Peach and Daisy, with Eliana’s younger brother, James, as Yoshi, just watching the interaction, his bag of candy hanging in his hands as he waits for someone to answer the door. Quiet and observant, as usual.

Benny turns to where Jack, Anderson, and I are standing, just a few feet behind them in the grass.

“Daddy!” Benny yells to Jack, “Evee and Crew said I don’t get any candy.”

“Bennett Mae, that is not what they said,” Jack yells back, and I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my laughter. Over Benny’s head, I can see Crew and Evee look at each other and giggle, the two having grown close now that their three-year age gap doesn’t seem so wide at ten and seven. Their laughs elicit a laugh from Eliana and James just as the front door they’re waiting at opens.

“That little girl is giving me a run for my money,” Jack sighs as we watch the kids hold out their bags of candy, but I can just make out the small smile on his face in the low light of the early October evening.

“She’s just like Evee was,” Anderson laughs, swaying back and forth to keep Levi, Ava and Anderson’s six-month-old son, asleep in the carrier strapped to his chest.

After a series of “thank you”s, the kids come running our way to show us the candy they got before heading to the sidewalk. I turn over my shoulder, seeing Emerson, Rumi, and Ava at the end of the driveway, the three huddled together as Crew, Evee, Eliana, Benny, and James open their bags.

“Why do they get the ‘mom tax’, but we don’t get a ‘dad tax’?” Anderson asks as I watch Emerson take a 3 Musketeers bar out of Crew’s bag as Rumi and Ava do the same with their kids’ bags.

Jack grunts something as an answer, but I’m too focused on my wife to really register it.

Even though we never had a wedding or made the trip to the courthouse, Emerson is my wife in every way that matters. I knew the legal route wasn’t in the cards for us when I got down on one knee and tried to propose to her two years ago.