Logan’s fingers grazed the bracelet on his wrist—the one Adrian had given him so long ago, when life had felt expansive and untamed. It was Adrian’s mother’s bracelet, a sacred piece of her memory. Logan had always known its weight, not just the physical coolness of the charm against hisskin, but the gravity of what it meant to Adrian. It had been one of the few things Adrian carried from his mother, who had passed when he was just a boy. And yet, Logan kept it.
A hypocrite, he thought.Ungrateful. He’d turned over the idea in his mind a hundred times—of reaching out to Adrian, offering to return it, asking if he wanted it back. Maybe Adrian had tried to contact him. Maybe he had. Logan wouldn’t know; he’d blocked the number, slammed the door so decisively shut on that part of his life that even the brilliance of Adrian’s smile couldn’t force its way through the smallest imagined fracture. And still, he wore the bracelet like a thief carrying a stolen relic, an unbearable reminder of the life he had destroyed with his own hands.
He stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, his breath hitching, his eyes squeezing shut as though the sheer force of his will could keep the tears at bay. The texture of the bracelet against his wrist burned, an ache not meant for anyone’s eyes but left for his wounded soul to carry. It was a quiet, concealed pain, one he had lived with for so long that it almost felt natural. But here, on this unfamiliar street, with people moving around him in shapes he barely registered and voices fading into a low murmur, he felt it sharper than ever. It was the pain of memories too beautiful and too clear to shut out, the ache of longing that refused to die. And yes, it was just a bracelet. But it was here. He could peel it off, god knew how much he yearned for it some moments, he could peel it off and end the torment, but he stayed tethered to it because he refused to let go of the last proof that Adrian had ever been his.
Run. The voice in his head was a whisper, a pulse, an echo of something both familiar and foreign.Run. Disappear. Leave everything behind.
It was the same voice that had driven him to the airport the day after graduation, when the world had felt too tight, too scripted, too certain. A time that now felt like it belonged to someone else, some other version of him that had never really learned how to stay.
It was the same voice that had carried him across the sky, over restless oceans, and straight into the arms of a man who smelled like salt and sun and something dangerously close to home.
It was the same voice that had led him to Adrian.
So maybe—just maybe—it hadn’t been wrong after all.
He opened his eyes, sharp and unseeing, and forced himself to move forward, his steps mechanical. Running wouldn’t save him. He knew that now. It hadn’t saved him when he left Adrian; it hadn’t saved him when he married Sandy; it wouldn’t save him now. But still, he walked, not toward anything, just away.
Sliding into the smooth leather of his black Mercedes, he tossed his phone onto the passenger seat with a force that betrayed his calm façade. He couldn’t let himself hear Adrian’s voice again, not after last night. But God, hewantedto. He wanted to replay the song, to soak in the ache of Adrian’s words, to let himself crumble under the weight of his longing.
Somehow, he ended up at the beach. He had no memory of the drive—no recollection of streets or turns or lights. One moment, he was in his car; the next, he was standing in the sand, the ocean sprawling before him, dark and infinite. The air was heavy with salt and possibility, but Logan’s mind was a storm, raging with memories he couldn’t escape.
Adrian’s hand in his, pulling him to the cool sand. Adrian’s lips, warm and urgent, pressing against his with a fervor that felt like coming home.“You’re the best gift of all,”Adrian had whispered, his voice filled withunguarded sincerity. Logan could still feel the echo of those words in his bones.
No.
No.
NO!
The thoughts screamed through his mind, threatening to tear him apart. Last night had been the final straw. Seeing Adrian’s face, hearing his voice—it had cracked Logan open, and now he was bleeding out. He couldn’t pull himself together, couldn’t piece himself back into the man the world needed him to be. He wasn’t strong enough for that.
So, instead, he wandered into a waterfront bar and took a secluded table at the edge, where he could see the ocean but still feel invisible. His favorite bar, the one Zack tended, was off-limits now. He couldn’t face the aftermath of his humiliation, couldn’t stomach the pity he’d see in Zack’s eyes.
He ordered a beer, light, easy, something that wouldn’t spiral him further down after last night. The waiter eyed him curiously, probably wondering what a man in a tailored suit was doing in a beach bar on a cool evening alone. Logan ignored the look and stared out at the water. It was dark now, the waves barely visible under the faint glow of the moon.
But Logan didn’t see the waves. In his mind, he was back in the Philippines—or maybe it was Australia. He couldn’t tell anymore. It didn’t matter. All he could see was Adrian, sitting on the sand with a guitar in his lap, his fingers moving with practiced ease, his voice filling the night with something so raw and beautiful it made Logan’s chest ache.
Logan leaned back in his chair, letting his head fall against the wood. His eyes fluttered shut, and Adrian was there again, smiling at him with thatboyish grin that always seemed to melt the world away. He was laughing, his eyes alight with joy, his voice carrying through Logan’s mind like a melody that refused to fade. Other memories surfaced—Adrian in the ocean, his body alive with the rhythm of the waves, the unbridled freedom of surfing mirrored in his movements.
Logan’s lips parted in a silent gasp as the memories tightened around him. He was drowning in them, and for once, he didn’t fight it. He let the weight pull him under, let the tide carry him to a place where Adrian still existed, where he could still feel his warmth, hear his voice, and see the spark in his eyes.
Because in the dark reality of his present, Adrian was all he had left. Even if it was only in his mind.
Logan’s body had not felt the ocean’s embrace since that last time with Adrian. The waves he once trusted to cleanse his soul now seemed like an unspoken accusation, a reminder of what he had abandoned. He missed it, missed the salt and the rhythm, but more than that, he missed Adrian, missed the way they had been part of the sea together, wild and unbreakable. Now the shore felt like a boundary he couldn’t cross, a wall between what was and what would never be again.
A single tear traced its way down Logan’s cheek, catching the dim light, a shard of broken glass dancing in his heartbreak, echoing the love he bore for Adrian and the sorrow he could not set down. The moisture marked a fleeting path along his skin, drawn from the eyes that had once held Adrian as reality, not wish. He didn’t wipe it away. He let it fall, unacknowledged, as he thanked the waiter who placed a beer in front of him. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled out his phone. He shouldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough to hear the song again, but the pull was irresistible.He wanted—no,needed—to hear Adrian’s voice more than he needed air in his lungs.
He scrolled through his YouTube history, his chest tightening when he saw the thumbnail: Adrian, illuminated by dim bar lights, the familiar guitar cradled in his hands. Logan’s thumb hovered over the screen, his breath catching as he saw the title, the name of that song.Lifesaver.Of course, that’s what Adrian had called it. How could it have been anything else?
He pressed play, and the first notes ignited him from the inside out, his heart a furnace, molten and uncontainable, dissolving within his chest as he fought to draw breath into lungs that no longer knew how to breathe air unshared with Adrian. Adrian’s voice followed, trembling and raw, filling every hollow space, fueling the roaring flames inside Logan, giving name to his pain and intensifying it. It wasn’t just music; it was a haunting, a calling, a tether to a world Logan had abandoned but could never escape. Adrian’s voice was like the sea itself, vast and unforgiving, yet capable of holding him in its depths.
As the camera panned over Adrian, Logan saw the guitar, and his breath caught in his throat. It wasthatguitar—the one Logan had given him in the Philippines. The sight of it was a blow he hadn’t expected. He let out a laugh, but it was jagged and bitter, carrying more agony than joy. That guitar was a piece of wood, an afterthought, a frantic decision made on a whim. Yet here it was, still in Adrian’s hands, still carrying their story in its strings.
The engraving was still there:To my lifesaver.He remembered the hours spent trekking through unfamiliar streets, the frantic search for a shop that could carve those words before the night ended. He hadn’t even knownif it was a good guitar, but Adrian had loved it. He had played for hours, his fingers coaxing life from the strings, his voice weaving melodies that became the soundtrack to their love.
Logan smiled through his tears, his heart twisting painfully. That guitar had been a gift, but Adrian had turned it into something sacred. It was the same instrument Adrian now used to pour his heartbreak into the world. And Logan, sitting alone in a beach bar with a beer and a phone pressed to his ear, was the reason for that heartbreak.
Adrian’s voice climbed as the chorus swelled: “I draw each breath only to offer it to you, be my lifesaver, and I’ll be yours...”
