Tiny lights—green, yellow, and white—shine and shimmer from the landline, dancing across the water below us. Being up here reminds me that perspective is everything. We’re nearly eight hundred feet above it all, insignificant to the people below. Just another blink of light swallowed by the distance. We’re an unreachable part of the sky to them, but to us, this height makes everything else feel small enough to survive.
The stars above are bright and bold, like holes in the dark earth showing the way to Heaven. I silently watch her as she takes it all in, my eyes adjusting just enough to see her in the darkness of the night.
“It’s stunning,” she breathes.
“Yeah,” I agree, but my eyes are locked on her.
I take a minute to collect myself, forcing my gaze to the stillness of the water and swallowing hard as I remember why we’re here.
“I came to this spot a lot during my darkest days,” I tell her. “For a while, I felt like I had lost everything. My purpose, my drive. My future was one big question mark in a way I never expected it to be, and I just… I didn’t have any hope or direction. Not for who I was or where I was going.” I sigh, letting my words fall out as they may.
“I used to think loss was the end of something. That once something broke, you couldn’t build anything new from the pieces. That it was just dead and it always would be. But then you came along, and you showed me that loss isn’t an ending—it’s just the road that brings us closer to where we’re meant to be. It’s like the storm-filled miles you have to suffer through to get to where you’re going. And even though you don’t know where the next one will take you, you just have to keep moving…
“I’m not saying it’s easy, or that life makes sense all the time, because it doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense why good people have to go through bad things or why shitty people can sometimes leave the world without even a bruise. I think the point is that you don’t have to understand it. You just have to live through it so you can get to where you’re meant to go. You keep showing up even when it hurts, because somewhere along the way, someone is going to need what you’ve been through to get them throughtheirday. And that matters. There’s no promise of an easy trip, but if you’re lucky enough, you’ll find something or someone in the storm that makes the suffering worth it.” My gaze finds hers from across the bench, and the pure honesty in me continues to pour out.
“You’ve done that for me, Alana. You’re the proof that even after everything—loss, grief,regret—there’s still something beautiful waiting on the other side. You made me believe in what life can still become. You showed me we’re not what we’ve lost or what we came from. We’re whatever we choose to do with it.”
She stares at me blankly, and I wonder what’s going on behind her stormy blue eyes. I wonder if I’ve said too much, or not enough, or if maybe—
My mind goes completely quiet, and my heart pounds as I watch her move in slow motion toward me. She crawls across the bench, landing on her knees beside me. Her eyes hold my gaze for a few silent seconds, dancing between my eyes. Then she takes my face in her hands and presses her lips softly against mine.
My hands wrap around her waist as we fall into the gentlest heartfelt kiss of only our lips. My world narrows to the heat of her mouth, the depth of her breath, the satin touch of her lips on mine. There’s nothing desperate or rushed between us—just a soundless certainty. A silent thank you. A promise whispered between two heartbeats.
It’s absolutely perfect.
She pulls away slowly, and my hands stay planted on her sides. Her eyes pour into mine, full of adoration, gratitude, and a hint of something more—something that seals the moment into an untouchable space. I holster the need to kiss her again. To feel her silk lips and explore the curve of her mouth.
“Sorry, I…” She pauses. “Saying thank you just didn’t feel like enough,” she says quietly, the faint smile on her lips barely visible in the night.
I swallow hard. “Okay,” I breathe, my heart drumming behind my ribs.
She moves and settles back into her seat, only closer this time. She tucks her feet under her, folding into herself as she setsher gaze out the window, the trails of her bow flowing within her long waves.
“Oh my God,” she yells.
“What?”
“It’s raining!” she says excitedly.
I look out the window, and sure enough, rain has begun falling. The drops are so small, they barely make a sound as they land on the windshield.
“We have to go out there!”
My head snaps to her. “What? It’s cold. We’re not—”
But she’s already stripping my hoodie off and jumping out of the truck.
The rain pelts down harder, larger drops slapping against the hood. She turns her head to the sky and holds her arms out as she twirls in slow circles. My heart swells seeing her like this. So…peaceful. Free.
“Come on!” she yells from the other side of my window, and I shake my head with a smile I can’t stop from growing.
“Absolutely not. This is your thing. I’ll just wait here. Where it’s dry.”
“Ugh,” she grunts. “Get out here, Jake.”
“No.”
“Get out here right now!” She points to the ground and stomps. It makes me chuckle.
