“It’s nonnegotiable. I need to. For me.”
He nods slowly. “Okay.”
I decide to push my advantage. “And I want the perfect future where we have some land by the ocean and some dogs and cats and chickens and maybe even a few kids, and you cook breakfast every Sunday morning and bake brownies for me whenever I want.”
He laughs, wet and broken and real. “Deal.”
I help him to his feet. We stumble to his bedroom without discussing it, stripping down to underwear and sliding under the covers like we’ve done so many times before. But this time it’s different. This time we’re both raw and exposed in ways that have nothing to do with skin.
Jared’s skin is fever-warm against mine, like his body’s been burning through anxiety for days. Tears prickle my eyelids because being back in Jared’s arms feels so incredibly right. Like I’ve been holding my breath for the last week, and I can finally exhale.
He traces patterns on my back while I listen to his heartbeat. It’s still too fast. There’s a slight tremor in his fingers as theymove across my shoulder blades, spelling out words I can’t quite decipher.
“We’re definitely going to be okay, right?” he says into the darkness. His breath stirs my hair as I turn to kiss his jaw.
“We’re going to be more than okay,” I promise. “I mean, we’re going to be messy and complicated and probably need so much therapy that Annie will name a wing after us, but we’re going to be okay.”
His laugh is still slightly uncertain. “A wing?”
“At minimum. Maybe the whole building.”
He pulls me closer, pressing his lips to my hair. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“Good. We can be terrified together.”
We stay like that for a long time, just breathing each other in, letting the reality sink in that we’re going to be okay. We’re going to work through this.
I finally move, but only so I can lay my head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.
“Remember when we talked about last words?” I ask eventually.
“Yes, I remember,” he says cautiously.
“I’ve decided I want my last words to be to you.”
He’s quiet for a long time. “That’s weirdly romantic in a slightly morbid way,” he says.
“That’s what I specialize in,” I say.
He laughs, and this time it’s Jared’s normal laugh, and the sound inflates my insides like helium.
“And what do you think your last words to me are going to be?” he asks.
“Something along the lines, ‘It was a privilege to be by your side through this journey of life.’”
He’s silent for a long time.
“Those are some quality last words,” he says finally.
“And I thought of them all by myself,” I say proudly.
“You realize it’s going to be hard for me to come up with something to match those,” he says.
“I know. But you’ve got a lifetime to figure it out.”
Epilogue
2 YEARS LATER
