I nod. “Some will.”
“Some won’t understand.”
“Most won’t.”
She looks at me then, eyes wide and uncertain. “But do we tell them anyway?”
I sit up, mirror her posture, our knees brushing. “If we don’t... we live like this. In secret. Always wondering who’ll find out. Always worrying about slipping up. We’d be happy, yeah—but scared too. We don’t have to tell strangers but I think the important people in our lives deserve to know.”
“And if we do tell them?”
“Maybe we lose people,” I say honestly. “But maybe the ones who stay... are the ones who matter.”
She swallows hard. “Do you really think that’s possible?”
“I think we’ve already lived through the worst part,” I whisper. “The discovery. The panic. The heartbreak. We survived that. Now, it’s about the aftermath. And how we want to live in it.”
Her eyes search mine. “You’re saying we stop hiding.”
“I’m saying I want a life where I don’t have to act like I didn’t love you before I knew. And where I don’t have to pretend I don’t still love you now that I do.”
She exhales, slow and shaky. “Okay. Then what’s the plan?”
I reach for her hand, squeeze it tight. “One person at a time. Together. No more lies. No more sneaking. We figure it out.”
“You think your mom will forgive us?”
I hesitate. “I don’t know. But I’d rather lose her for telling the truth than lose you for hiding it.”
Tears pool in her eyes, and she lets out a breathless laugh. “Fuck, you’re dramatic.”
“Only for you.”
She leans in, presses her forehead to mine. “So we’re really doing this.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “We’re really doing this.”
We fall back into the pillows, tangled and tired and terrified—but not alone. Not anymore.
We don’t have all the answers. Not yet.
But we’re going to find them.
Together.
Epilogue
6 Months Later
COVE
Everest officially moved in,his toothbrush is beside mine. His sweatshirts are on my chair. His favorite cereal is in the cabinet. And every time I wake up tangled in his arms, I forget what it felt like to fall asleep alone.
He’s just… here. In all the best ways.
We road trip on weekends, no real destination—just snacks, playlists, and the thrill of making out in shitty gas station parking lots. We dance in the kitchen to music we don’t even like, burn pancakes we forget we’re cooking, and stay up late watching dumb videos we’ve already seen a dozen times.
The thing that wrecks me the most?
