“This time,” I said, my voice rough with something like reverence, “I’m not watching you fall.” I turned my head and met his eyes. “I’m watching you rise.”
His breath hitched. Not in pain, but recognition. He reached for my hand and laced our fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I don’t feel like I’m surviving anymore,” he said. “I feel like I’m… choosing.”
My chest tightened. “Me too.”
We stood there a long time; the wind tugging at our clothes, the sun warming our backs. The sound of the waves threading something ancient and steady through the space between us.
After a while, he said, almost shyly, “Dad’s selling the house.”
I nodded. “I assumed as much.”
He swallowed then looked out at the water again. “I don’t want to live there,” he said. “But I don’t want to keep living in a temporary place either.”
I turned fully toward him. “You don’t have to be.” Silence stretched between us, filled with buzzing anticipation. “Come live with me,” I said. “We’ll get our own place. Somewhere that's just ours.”
His eyes widened just a fraction. Not with fear. Hope. “You’re sure?” he whispered.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” My hands trembled when I cupped his face. “I’m not going to ruin this,” I said. “I’m not going to run when it gets hard..”
He leaned his forehead into mine. “I’m not running anymore either.”
We kissed there on the edge of the cliffs behind his childhood home. It was fragile, but what we shared was certain.
The ocean breathed below us. The future stood wide open in front of us. It didn’t feel like something we were bracing to survive. It felt like something we were finally brave enough to build.
Once, I’d watched him stand at the edge of this world and fall. Now I was standing beside him, watching him choose to live.
EPILOGUE
ELLIOT
One Year Later
I survived because I was loved.
But I chose to live because I finally believed I deserved it.
Today was the day. The day we finally moved into our new house. My stomach fluttered with a mix of disbelief and excitement, the kind that made my chest tight in a good way. After months of searching, after weeks of sketches and plans and tentative “what ifs,” we’d found a plot of land in Whispering Cove—quiet, private, kissed by the ocean breeze. Anthony had taken the money from selling his old house and built this, our dream home, from the ground up. Every beam, every window, every carefully chosen tile was ours.
I couldn’t wait to explore every corner, to place our memories in those rooms, to fill the house with laughter and warmth. Today wasn’t just moving day—it washomecoming.
The tape on the last box crinkled as I pressed it down. I breathed in the faint cinnamon smell lingering from the bakery below my old apartment. Even the apartment smelled like a life I was leaving behind, one I’d survived, one I was ready to carry forward.
Mia crouched on the floor, untangling a heap of cutlery from a box, muttering to herself. “You seriously kept three potato peelers?”
“I make soup,” I replied.
“Yeah, well, not soup you actually eat,” Dix chimed in, tossing a striped tea towel at me. She caught my half-smile with a knowing look.
Drax and Jet carried boxes down the stairs, slipping past me with easy nods, their quiet efficiency grounding me more than they could know. I felt the hum of motion around me. The steady rhythm of people who loved me—not because they had to, but because they chose to.
The drive out to the house felt unreal, the world stretched wide and sunlit as if it were holding its breath for me. I kept my hand lightly resting on the console, thumb brushing against the worn leather, feeling Anthony’s presence in the car like a shield even without him being physically there. When the driveway curved and the ocean shimmered at the edge of the property, a flutter went through me.
Anthony was already there, leaning against the porch railing, sleeves rolled up, hair mussed by the breeze. When I stepped out of the truck, he didn’t hesitate—he crossed the small distance and wrapped me up, arms firm but gentle. I leaned into him instantly, inhaling him like I’d been starving for air, letting the solid warmth of his chest anchor me.
“Hey,” he murmured, forehead resting against mine.
