I wondered if I’d ever get used to talking about him—us—in the past tense. How long would it take for me to get used to being in the woods alone, or for this ache in my chest to fade? Could I fulfill my promise to him? Would I ever be cherished, loved, by another man?
“I know that look,” Eithan said by way of greeting. “I thought we agreed, no brooding.” His smile was full of levity, and although everypart of me risked fracturing, I met him with a bright smile of my own.
“It’s annoyance at your sorry ass being late,” I retorted, then rose and leaned in for a hug.
Today would be a delicate balance of soaking in every minute with each other while maintaining an illusion of normalcy. We were down to our lasts. One last picnic. One last dip in the lake. One last hug.
Eithan collected my bag, and we began our ascent.
As we reached the lakeshore, Eithan set down my pack, opening it for the picnic blanket.“What’s this?” he asked, holding up a wrapped package from the bottom of my rucksack.
“What does it look like?” I teased.
“Butcher paper,” he said with a tug of a smile.
“Funny.” He was right—technically, I had wrapped it in butcher paper. I couldn’t get my hands on anything else and knew he wouldn’t care.
“Open it,” I said.
All amusement left him as he laid out the blanket, and we lowered ourselves onto it before he opened it. Concealed within the brown parchment was a medium-size notebook bound in leather. His name was inscribed on the cover in a delicate cursive. He caressed the buttery smoothness of the leather, then traced his name tenderly with his fingertips, repeating the movement several times.
Opening the book, he halted when he came across my script, then proceeded to read it aloud:
Many moons have come and gone as you’ve become a man.
The tide has changed, swift and fast, birthing a new plan.
But when you’ve journeyed and find yourself in a strange new land,
know that life will wax and wane, as the stars have planned.
Remember then, there’s more than night, when you feel the dark.
Just stay true to who you are, and a new day will embark.
He kept his head down, reading it silently for a time, then swallowed hard. “Thank you, Ny.”
“You’re welcome.” I paused, struggling against the words that pushed to the surface. I had to let him know, let him hear it from my own lips, even if I had never voiced it before. I was a coward for not saying it.
I rallied my courage.
“Eithan…I…”
Damn it, it felt like an immovable boulder held the words at bay. Why were my feelings so hard to express?
Eithan’s gaze lingered on me, waiting.
My heart pounded against my chest like a drum of anxiety and fear. “I...”Fuck. Why can’t I say it?
He caressed my cheek with his hand. “I know, Ny. I know.”
Those broken words shattered my resolve. I couldn’t just sit in this sadness—the loneliness that waited for his absence to pounce.
My mouth found his as I swung a leg across his lap, straddling him. Instantly, he wrapped his hands around my waist, holding me as if afraid of letting go.
We were a frenzy of teeth and tongues and heavy breaths.
He paused, breaking away, then held my face in his hands—his steady, gentle, calloused hands. Thumbs gliding across my cheeks with loving tenderness, Eithan studied me as if etching every detail into memory.
