“But I did.We both did.”I sit up, meeting her where she is.My hands travel to her cheeks, and I thumb away her tears.“That night, I got a chance to do for you what you’d done for meall along.Isavedyou.It was the first time I felt truly brave, and the irony is, I never could’ve done it if you hadn’t shown me how, time and time again.It made me the man I am.Youmade me the man I am.It’s why I tell Olly all of our old stories, and one day, I’ll tell him that one, too.It’s because I want him to be brave.Brave like Venus.Brave like me, too.”
A gasping sob blubbers from her as she curls against my chest.“But Henry… this isn’t how it should be.And today, with Olly, dredged it up again.”
“Stop,” I order.“You aren’t to blame for that night or today.I don’t regretthatnight.Not one minute.When you slipped and disappeared into the water, I didn’t think twice about diving in after you.That’show much I loved you.And when you held me on the beach, trying to get me to breathe again, I felt how much you loved me.Our love was tested, and we passed.”
“Until I failed.”Our breaths mingle in our tiny pocket, and more tears escape when she whispers, “I was so scared that I’d lose you, Henry.I’m still scared, like I’m always on that beach, begging you to breathe.Don’t you see?I don’t want to hurt you or Olly, but it’s inevitable.Today proves it?—”
“No, today proves that you belong with us.You did everything right.”
“I can’t go through this again.As much as I love you, I can’t,” she says, as if she’s stopped listening to me.“I can’t be what you need me to be.I can’t be what Olly needs.She’s right—all I do is hurt you?—”
“No, she’s not right?—”
“It doesn’t matter.Even if she’s wrong, I can’t exist in this place, in this family, where I’m to blame when something goes wrong, where I’m expected to cause problems, to be difficult, to run.I survived that once—I won’t put myself through it again.Not even for you, Henry.”
My lungs constrict again, agonizing over her pain because I get it.Sheshouldn’thave to live like that.I wanted a second chance for us, a better existence, not a repeat of the past with her playing defense and suffering through it for me.
“You’re right.I don’t want that for you, either.I’m asking you to trust me.Today was rough—I get it.But you’restillhere, and today,thatnight, they shouldn’t decide forever.”I sit up and grab her hand between us.“I trust that you love me.I trust that you love Olly.I trust you to do what’s right for you,even ifthat means leaving.But you don’t have to leaveme.Don’t lettodaydecide for you.”
“I won’t let today decide,” she says finally.“I won’t do anythingtoday.”
I bring her hands up to my mouth and plant tiny kisses on her knuckles.“Thank you.”
That she’s willing and able to put her turmoil aside fills me with relief—relief that’s quickly extinguished when she says, “But…”
Her voice trails as little beams of green and amber light flicker across her face.Her tears catch the light and make her cheeks sparkle.“But you said I’d get my answer if I stopped chasing it… and I have.I will accept New Zealand.”
“That’s fine.We can?—”
“No, Henry.We can’t.”She barely gets the words out before her head hangs, and a soft sob escapes her.“I love you, Henry… but it’s the life I’m used to, the one I’m most comfortable living.That’s where I feel accepted and valued.It’s where I’m safe.And where everyone’s safe from me.It’s what I want.I can’t be there with a family here, missing me and living with disappointment because I’m absent.That’s not a good life—not for you or Olly.You both need someone who’s… here.”
Her words feel acidic, burning through me, eating away at my hope.Only I can’t argue because she’s right.Separating again, missing each other, trying to make our family work over texts and calls would be difficult for all of us, including Olly.We’d be divided with all that stands laughably between us—miles, mountains, oceans, people, entire worlds blocking our path to each other.
Every cell in my body screams in protest, every muscle aches, every old loneliness returns with renewed sharpness and agony.It’s the past, overtaking me again, only this timewithher rather than without.
If she’d given me the chance back then, I would’ve talked her out of leaving.Begged her.Argued.Pressured her into whatIwanted.Promised her that I’d make everything okay.
But how can I do that now?She’d been right to leave then.It was her way of saving us, and she ended up saving herself.Finding herself.Doing all the incredible things she wanted.I can’t make her stay now.I can’t make her choose me or us.Not over herself.Not over what she wants.I can’t ask her to accept a half-life, hoping that Olly and I can make up the difference.I can’t ask her to give up her adventurous, comfortable world for an unfair one.
And she refuses to ask me to settle for a half-life with her, either.So, I can’t argue.
I can only… my head falls against her shoulder—cry.
“I’d go with you, if I could,” I sob into her.“Follow you anywhere.”
“I know.”She scoots toward me on the blanket, wrapping her hands around my neck to tug me closer.“I thought I could stay.I wanted to.But outside of you and me… and us and Olly… I don’t belong, like I’m trying to fit into a life that’s not mine.Yours.Dad’s.Even Ivy’s.”
“I know.It’s okay.If it doesn’t feel like home, then it isn’t,” I say, running my hands over her wet cheeks, and hating how hurt she is.Hating how hard this is for her—the pressure of deciding, feeling torn between us and the life she knows, and shouldering the aftermath of her choice.Eventhat’sunfair to her.“I’m sorry.I wanted to bethatguy, helping you through this, but all I’ve done is make this harder for you.”
“No.You arethatguy for me.Always,” she says, her fingers running through my beard as she smiles.“This summer has been the best of my life, and I’ll carry it with me wherever I go.I don’t regret anything, not one second.”
A smile breaks through my sadness.“Me, neither.”
Her lips meet mine in a desperate plea.The sweetness of the alcohol mixes with salty tears, and my tongue plunges into her mouth, needing more.In a breath, we’re intertwined, on our knees, bodies pressed, hands everywhere, but lips together.Each kiss full-on, feeling like the last.
She tugs on the button of my jeans and slips her hand inside, stroking me.Her firm, confident grip reminds me of the first time she touched me, and how I came over her delicate hand.And then, how she came against mine.I take all those perfect memories—the ones of just her and me—and seal them between us now, in our wild affection.Our first kiss, and every first between us.First love and last.I leave her lips only long enough to pull her shirt over her head.My hands dig into her shorts, squeezing her ass and pressing her closer.
“Henry,” she whispers against my lips as she pushes my jeans down my hips.Her lips part like she wants to say more, but she can’t find the words.
