TARAN #3
I nodded, the weight of old memories pressing on my chest. “Yeah… but it’s hard, too. Makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to feel like that about someone again.” I glanced at Wynter, gauging his reaction.
He was silent for a moment, eyes downcast as he held the ornament.
I watched as his face softened, and I could see the years of regret and guilt flicker across his features, shadows of the past that had kept him from reaching out.
“Taran, I should’ve… I should’ve been there—” His voice faltered, and he swallowed hard, as if to steady himself.
“I just couldn’t... I didn’t know how to come back after he was gone. ”
I took a deep breath, feeling my throat tighten.
“I was hurt, Wynter. Confused. You were there for the first two months, went back to the base, and I never saw you again. Only heard through the town grapevine that you were back home for two or three weeks every once in a while, and then you were gone again. I thought maybe you… maybe you hated me because I couldn’t see the signs.
Because I didn’t see Royce was teetering on the edge. ”
Wynter’s eyes lifted, sharp with emotion. “No. Never. I... I blamed myself. Royce was my best friend, and I was away, and—” He exhaled, his fingers brushing over the ornament again, more firmly this time. “I felt like I let him down. Like I let you down.”
We both fell silent, and I felt the years of misunderstanding and pain dissolve between us, a shared weight that neither of us had spoken aloud until now.
“Wynter,” I said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He would want you to hang this, you know. He’d want you to feel like you were part of this family still.” My voice dropped. “You are still part of this family.”
Wynter looked at me, his eyes glistening in the dim light. Carefully, he raised the ornament to a branch near the center of the tree, his movements deliberate, almost ceremonial. As he let go, the ornament caught the glow of the lights and sparkled, a small, enduring reminder of Royce.
We stood there for a long moment, just the two of us side by side, and it felt as though Royce was there too, lingering in the warmth we’d managed to find again.
“Have you thought about… letting someone in again? Or is it just too much after… well, everything?” Wynter’s voice was quiet, hesitant but filled with something vulnerable, almost like hope.
I sighed. “Losing Royce… it was losing a part of myself. I thought that was it—I’d had my one shot at love, you know? And it was more than enough… but now…”
“But now…?” He leaned in closer, his face open, waiting.
I met his gaze, searching for any hint of doubt.
“I guess I’m afraid, Wyn. Of opening up.
Of letting myself feel anything like that again, just to lose it.
” My voice came out quieter than I intended.
“And I can’t help but wonder… if this is real for you or if you’re just…
needing something after everything with Lisa. ”
He took a steadying breath, his fingers grazing mine as we reached for the same ornament. “Taran, this isn’t a rebound. It’s not… whatever leftover feelings I have because I need someone right now. It’s more than that. You’re more than that.”
My heart gave a small, unexpected leap, and I found myself studying him, his eyes, the quiet confidence in his voice. But a part of me held back, unsure. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because…” He hesitated, then ran a hand through his hair, looking both thoughtful and vulnerable. “Because being here with you, like this... it feels like the most right thing I’ve done in a long time. And I’ve wanted this for longer than I’d let myself admit.”
Wynter’s hand found mine again, his touch sending warmth up my arm. He was searching my face, his eyes full of that same intensity I’d glimpsed before. “Taran, I know I’m asking you to trust me, and I know it’s not easy. But... I’m here because I want to be. Because I’m ready to be.”
He squeezed my hand, just for a moment, before letting go. It was subtle but enough to make me feel that maybe... maybe... this wasn’t a fleeting feeling for him.
Wynter and I lingered beside the tree, taking in the peaceful moment, our shoulders brushing. The silence held a weight of its own, the kind that didn’t demand filling but invited more.
He looked over at me, his eyes reflecting the soft, twinkling lights. “What would a real chance between us even look like?”
I turned to him, my mind catching up with my heart. “I think… it’d mean letting you in. Completely. But Rory’s my first priority, Wynter.”
He nodded, his gaze steady, reassuring. “I know. And I’m not looking to rush anything. I’d never want to make things harder for him… or for you. I just—” His voice softened. “I want to make it work, Taran. Only if you do too.”
The words hung in the air between us, as real and solid as any promise.
Wynter’s hand brushed mine. Without thinking, I squeezed, letting the touch linger.
I looked up, meeting his gaze, and everything else faded. His eyes held a question, but I’d already decided. I leaned in, feeling his breath warm against mine as we closed the distance.
The kiss was slow, unhurried, yet full of all the things we hadn’t said.