He ran a hand along my arm in comfort. “I’m sorry. Can I ask you something else about the name?”
I waited.
“When you first told me why you had to change your name, I asked you why you didn’t change it back after you were old enough. You said it was just easier. What did you mean by that? It wasn’t just about people knowing you in Reedsport as Preston, was it?”
I looked away quickly, recalling the conversation we’d had that night on the crest. That day felt like a lifetime ago already. A lifetime and yesterday, all at the same time.
It took me several long seconds to answer him. “When I went to Atlanta, I expected the Henrys to still be there, so I had it in my mind that they would help me find you and Tosh. Even if you were away at college, I knew Tosh would have had a way to get in touch with you and things would have been okay. I never expected… I never once thought everyone would be gone. It just… God, it hurt, Beck.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling that pain all over again. Beckett reached for it, and kissed my palm, whispering,never again.I dashed at some tears before continuing.
“Then I climbed up into the tree house, holding on to that last bit of hope, that you leftsomethingfor me there. There was nothing though. It was just so… desolate, completely void of any of our memories. But what really cut me was our names.” I heard Beckett inhale sharply. “Seeing our names gouged out of the wood like that, like you’d just… erased me.” My tears fell harder, and as much as I tried, I couldn’t keep my lip from quivering.
“Oh, baby no. I did that in anger and regretted it immediately. Shit, I’m so sorry, Ry.”
“I know that now, but back then, it just kind of made me think you’d moved on, you know? So, I knew I’d never forget you, but I couldn’t keep living with that darkness. Ihadto move on and try to live. That’s what I meant, Beck. Everyone in Reedsport already knew me as Preston, so like I said, it was just easier to pick up the pieces from there.”
Beckett pulled me down for a long kiss before wiping the last of my tears away, letting me know he understood exactly what I meant. We fell back into silence, and eventually I picked up the marker to resume drawing on his chest.
“I love that you still call me Riley,” I told him softly. “I just want you to know that.”
His eyes softened. “Tell me some more good things about your grandpa. What are some of the things you remember that make you happy?”
Joy filled me as I sorted through a few of my favorite memories. “I’ll never forget what he said the first time he really saw my paintings. Not The Escape. I meanmywork, when he saw what I could do with a paintbrush and canvas. It was a painting of a man on a bench studying the stars.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, he hoped to live in a world I created when he died.”
Beckett smiled. “Did you ever paint anything just for him?”
“Yeah, I’ll have to show you next time you come to Reedsport. I have them at my house. I just haven’t been able to put them up yet.” I nudged his shoulder with my hand. “Can you turn a little? Yeah, there, thanks. Grandpa used to meet me every Tuesday night for dinner, even if it was late. There were several times we had dinner after midnight because of my work or whatever, but he always came, no matter what, and he usually brought fresh brownies. Oh, and when I turned twenty-one, he gave me the option of covering all the costs if I went out drinking with friends or a few thousand dollars-worth of art supplies.”
“You chose the art supplies, didn’t you?”
“No, actually. I went drinking,” I said with a smirk.
“What!” Beckett laughed.
“Yeah. Surprised him, too. That was a fun night. He drove me and a few of my friends up to Charleston for a night out. Even took us to some of the gay clubs.”
“He did not. Your grandpa?”
“Yup. He was really a different man by then, and said he wanted to try everything once, you know?” I laughed. “I think he got hit on more than me, Beck. It was so funny to watch! Amelia might still have that on video somewhere. We’ll have to show you.”
As I studied the drawing, I noticed the cat’s paw looked like it was poised to play with a ball of yarn, so I quickly added one, with a string falling down to Beckett’s navel. He squirmed and batted my hand away, which turned into a mini tickle fest. He wasn’t nearly as ticklish as I was, but it still felt so good to hear him laugh, especially after the stress of the last twenty-four hours. I would have done anything to hear more of it.
I continued to share more memories with Beckett for the next two hours, eventually setting the markers aside just to hold him. Beckett watched me closely the whole time, laughing at some of the stories, or gently touching me in a comforting way when he could tell I was sad.
“He really cared for you, then,” Beckett said, as if he was only now accepting it as truth.
“He did. I learned a lot from him in the few good years we did have together.” I met his eyes. “He would have really loved you, Beck. I wish you could have met him.”
“Me too.”
“Sit up, would you? My leg is dead,” I complained, pushing his shoulder.
He chuckled and sat up next to me, leaning in for a kiss.
