Page 129 of Let the Light Shine Through

We have an appointment.

“Where?”

“In the city. I’ll drive us down tomorrow, and we can stay the night.”

“Roz.”

“Everything will be paid in full, including travel expenses and any possible treatments available.”

My head shakes even as tears fall from my chin.

“I’ve had money my whole life, and it didn’t make me half as happy as you do. I’d use every dollar I have to spend even one more day with you, Gia.”

“I know.” But I refuse to do that to anyone, especially Roz.

“So then let me.”

“I can’t,” I sob.

He uses my own words, telling me, “There’s always a choice.”

A thousand choices fill my head, not just the ones I’m faced with now, but also the ones I’ve made and the ones I never even got to make, like falling for Roz. Why’d it have to be him?

Because he earned my love. Because his love’s worth having. Because he’s worth having.

“You’ve been pushing me since the day we met,” Roz says, “always making me do things when I didn’t think I could. It’s my turn to push you. You don’t have to live for me. You just have to choose.”

I drop my forehead to his, and he pleads, “Don’t go yet, baby. I need you here still.”

My vision grows blurry watching his do the same, our eyelashes thick with tears.

“I’ll do anything. Anything.”

“Anything?” I manage to ask, and with his own hoarse voice, he promises, “Anything.”

Roz

White surrounds me as far as the eye can see, welcoming me back, welcoming me home.

And even though it’s a long overdue homecoming, everything’s exactly the same as I remember it—the smell, the chill that doesn’t affect me in the slightest, the rush I get from just being out here.

Except me. I’m not even close to the same as I was the last time I did this. After everything that’s happened in the last few years, how could I be?

I take a deep breath, dropping my head between my shoulders to mentally collect the image above me. Neon green with streaks of blue twist across the sky in a chaotic rhythm that reminds me of Gia in the best way possible, and I can’t help but smile. Of course I see her. They’re light—polar light but still light.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, snapping a picture before my battery can shut down. I never used to take my own pictures of the places I’d visit. Like everything else in my life, I took them for granted.

Not anymore. Now I cherish it all, even the same aurora I’ve seen dozens of times before, because you never know when your last time seeing something will be.

Is she seeing this?

Passing the small holes in the snow that hold continuous flames, thanks to the resort keeping whatever they fill them with that’s flammable lit, I step into the glass igloo, mindful of the cold Finnish air trying to slink its way inside as I shut the door quickly.

“It’s not a bluebird, but it’ll do. Ready to go, Mrs. Andrews-Smith?”

“That’s Mrs. Fancy to you,” Gia says from the bed, before pulling back the thick quilt and getting to her feet.

She was seeing it, just from in here. I told her to stay inside and keep warm while I went to check on conditions.