49. Tabitha
CHAPTER 49
TABITHA
The rosebushes are budding in my favorite spot, and that summer feeling in the mountains makes everything feel warm and hazy. The sun beats down on my skin, and Milo’s laughter as he and Rhys run down the hill is music to my ears.
I watch as Rhys scoops him up and twirls him, rubbing his beard against the side of his neck until the little boy squeals. His movements are sure and powerful, his recovery nothing short of a miracle.
He’s back in the ring, doing what he loves. He comes home often, also to do what he loves. Which is being with us.
Everything between us is so… easy. That uphill climb has made the flat land stroll an absolute dream. We walk hand in hand, knowing that there isn’t much life can throw our way that we won’t be able to tackle together.
I’ve never felt more secure in my life than I do knowing that Rhys is here now, and that even when he’s not, he’ll always come back.
I’m propped on my hands, legs outstretched before me, the old sleeping bag laid flat beneath me as I admire them.
My sister’s urn is at my side.
“You know what I’ve learned through this all, sissy?”
She doesn’t respond, because why the hell would she?
“Life is all just shades of gray. People are shades of gray. You. Me. Rhys. Mom and Dad. No one is perfect. I think Milo might be pure light. For now, anyway. But I’m sure he’ll disappoint me one day.” I snort. “After all, he’s related to us. And god knows you and I aren’t perfect. But you know what? That’s okay. That’s just… being human. I don’t think I’ve ever known someone more unapologetically human than you. You did some bad shit, but you did some really incredible shit too. You left me…”
I turn and lift the brass container, watching the sun spark off the metallic finish. “But look what you left me with.” Milo is mauling Rhys. Now that he’s more aware of what Rhys does for work, he likes to try his hand at wrestling with him when he’s home. There’s zero polish to his attacks, but joy lines his every movement. “Look at them.” My voice cracks. “I wish you could see them. And maybe you can. I hope you can. I know that for all our complicated feelings about each other… I know seeing this would have made you happy. I only ever wanted you to be happy.”
I swipe a tear off my cheek. The ache of missing my sister is no less sharp, but now I can cry happy tears over her rather than just sad ones.
“I don’t think you’d be pleased about sitting on my shelf in a jar. It just doesn’t feel very… you. I think here—on the wild side of the mountain—might be where you belong.”
I twist the lid, swallowing as it loosens. I reach in, feeling the fine ash slip through my fingers. And I smile as I watch my sister’s ashes dance across the wind.
When I inhale, it feels like my lungs are filling with more air than I’ve breathed in years. It feels like here, Erika can be safe and free and with us all at once. I do it alone, because it feels like I need to. And when the urn is empty, all I want are my boys.
When I look down toward them, Rhys is already watching me. Because of course he is. His eyes are always on me. He’s always supporting me—quietly, gently. In that way of his that feels like a warm blanket wrapped around me on a cold day.
When I hit him with a watery smile, his head tilts. I can see the question in his eyes. He knows I needed that moment with my sister. I needed that closure. I didn’t need an audience, but he still managed to be here for me. Like he always is.
But now I want them both closer. I want to hold them. I want to be all together. And like they just know , both of them walk up the hill toward me. Hand in hand.
“I wanna pick out shapes in the clouds,” Milo declares with pink cheeks and a wide smile.
All I can do is nod and stare back at him, marveling over how much I love him. I think I’d do absolutely anything for this little boy.
Rhys must see the emotion on my face, because he ushers Milo to one side of me before he takes a position on the other. My boys flank me and we watch the sky together, picking out shapes until we all fall into a companionable silence. Their warmth heats me to my marrow. Nothing has ever felt more perfect. I let my eyes flutter shut to soak up the moment, only made sweeter by Milo’s soft voice cutting through the hush of the mountain.
“That one kind of looks like fingers. Hooked together.”
I smile and turn to my side, drawing Milo into me. Slotting him right against my front. He smells a little bit like Erika and feels a lot like home. As does the man who presses closer behind me. Spooning me just like I’m spooning Milo.
When he wraps his arm over us, his pinky links with mine.
And we drift off like that, under a bluebird sky with big puffy clouds floating above us.
Together.