My heart is racing, my lungs burning from taking in too much air too fast. I’ve never felt more grounded in my body. I’m fully present for this.
The pipe is light in my hands. Almost as light as the cardboard check.
I feel surprised. I feel relieved.
Something breaks open inside me.
Just like this chimney.
I send the pipe straight into the center, polishing off the remaining bricks.
My chest warms as the stinging fades.
I think of Emma and Gloria, who I’ve kept at a distance. They haven’t distanced me in return.
I feel included. I feel accepted.
I strike the base, breaking what’s left of its foundation. The set is now in pieces all over the concrete floor. It’s no longer a structure, just chimney confetti made by my own hands.
What was once whole is now shattered. It’s a mess.
It’s still beautiful.
I’m still beautiful.
I kneel into the remnants of the set, scooping up pieces of red and white flakes into my hands. I squeeze them into a soft fist before opening my hand again. The flakes fall through my fingers like water.
I glance over my shoulder at Logan. “I can definitely still fix this,” I say softly.
A smile spreads across his face before he breaks into laughter.
I fling the pipe into the mess. I strip off my face shield, helmet, goggles, and gloves. He does the same.
I’m not alone anymore.
Then I close the distance between us and jump into his arms. My lips crash against his, his mouth parting to let me in. Our kisses taste tear-salted, but these are happy ones.
I pull back and lock eyes with him. The day’s last rays of sun shine behind Logan’s head, turning his sandy hair gold. I smile at the sight. This moment… it’s exactly what being with Logan feels like—emerging from the darkness and stepping into the light.
“I love you,” we say at the same time. My version comes out urgent. Desperate. Like I need him to know right this very second.His version is steady and sure. Like he’s had time to sit with this idea for some time.
“I love you,” I say again, simply for the fact that it feels so fucking good to say.
This isthefeeling. The ultimate one.
I laugh through my tears, this jumble of emotions bubbling up inside me and fizzing out over the rim.
Logan smiles, his cheeks wet with my tears. It’s a perfect metaphor, I think, for what we’ve been to each other: safe spaces to figure out our emotions. He doesn’t wipe them off.
“Hazel,” he says. “I’ve loved you since the moment we pretended to be old together.”
I blink the tears out. “Not when I hatched the plan to help you increase your luck?”
“I don’t need you to fix anything for me. Not then, not now, not ever. I just need you to be with me.”
I know how he means this. That’s all I need, too.
But right now, I also need him in another way.
