I hear you now, Kai.
He clearly wasn’t expecting it. His massive frame stumbles back, too big for this house, and we both go tumbling to the floor. But I don’t let go.
“Don’t let go,” I whisper, my face pressed against his chest, clutching him like he’ll disappear, because I’m certain he eventually will.
His arms come around me, steadying me. “I won’t do that again,” he says, his voice soft but certain.
I pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes look so bright now as they hold mine. Freckles dot his nose and cheeks, and I can’t help but cup his face in my hands. “I can’t believe… you’re here,” I say, my voice breaking.
Kai doesn’t answer. He just looks at me, his expression softening.
“You… aren’t really here, are you?” I ask, the question ripping itself from my chest.
His silence is answer enough. After a long moment, he shakes his head.
“Why is this happening?” I whisper, my voice cracking, tears spilling over again. “Am I going insane?”
Kai reaches up, his hand brushing my cheek, wiping away a tear. “Sometimes,” he says softly, “you have to lose your mind before you come back to your senses.”
“Kai… I—” I’m about to tell him. Everything. Everything I’ve wanted to say for so long. I’m about to tell him how much I love him, how much I don’t want him to leave.
But he stops me. “I know,” he says, his voice gentle. He takes my hand, his grip warm, steadying. “Tell me later.”
He pulls us both to our feet, and when I look outside, there’s a sunset. A beautiful, warm sunset that paints the sky with deep oranges and soft purples, bleeding into each other like one of Mason’s old watercolour palettes. But… how? It was morning just moments ago. Does it have to end so quickly?
Kai looks at the sunset, a quiet smile playing on his lips. But I look at him. The way the light frames his face, the warmth in his eyes.
And I just know I’ll see him in every sunset from now on.
But when he turns back to me, something shifts. Slowly, impossibly, he starts to fade.
“Kai!” I yell, panic clawing at my chest. “Kai, no!”
I try to grab him, to hold onto him, but my hands pass through empty air. He’s slipping away. Just like his memories did. Falling away like leaves from a tree, one by one until there’s nothing left.
“Not now,” I whisper, desperation breaking my voice. “Not now. I’m not ready!”
But it’s not just him. The walls of the house dissolve, the voices upstairs fade. The warmth, the light, all of it begins tounravel, and the perfect world… the one I wanted to believe so desperately was real slowly begins to go cold.
Begins to turn ugly.
Everything except the sunset, still lingering in the sky.
For a few moments, I watch the sun set alone, knowing it will never rise for us again.
***
The light fades, everything disappears. To put it simply, there’s nothing here. Just darkness. And it’s cold, so cold it’s almost sharp, biting, as if it’s trying to carve its way into my bones. It’s endless too, like I could scream and the sound would never find anything to reach. I don’t know how long I’ve been here—a moment, an eternity?
It doesn’t matter. If this is a nightmare, I want out.
I want to wake up.
Then, out of the void, a figure emerges.
My breath catches in my throat, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might shatter. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. The words repeat over and over in my mind like a prayer.
But the figure comes closer, and I can’t move. My legs buckle, and I fall back, scrambling, until a laugh cuts through the suffocating silence.
