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December 31, 2045
Hallee (1.5 hours until Midnight)
Walking down the front steps of The Marmotte felt like walking away from everything good in the world. No one dared to take a step away as the door slammed shut behind us. Marlowe was the one to try and ease the devastating reality of goodbye.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, staring into my widely terrified eyes.
“Tomorrow,” I replied, and the devastation in her glassy eyes as they flicked to Matt made it that much harder to breathe.
Glancing to Marlowe and Avery, Dean’s voice broke as he said, “Take care of each other. Please, take care of my wife.”
“We will,” Avery whispered, choking back a cry as Hudson pulled me into the world’s tightest hug.
“You be good, you hear me? In here,” Hudson paused, gently tapping my chest. I inhaled deeply, breathing in his final moments of kindness as his hand raised. Staring into my soul and tapping my forehead three times, he added, “And in here, yeah?”
My face shattered with my heart as I nodded and Matt pulled me close, holding my head tightly as if he could hold my mind together. “You heard him,” he whispered, kissing my forehead. “Hold the line, Hal.”
“I love you,” I cried, clinging to their hands as if a tight grip would embed the words in their skin, and that was it. Whatever we’d been ended as quickly as it had begun. Everyone else chose to go to the party, drowning themselves in alcohol and leaving us to drown in each other before time burns us away.
The door closes behind us as Dean lifts me, pressing me up against it. Holding tight to the back of my thighs, his kisses trail up my neck to my ear. Exhaling the last of my nerves, my fluttering breath makes him freeze. One hint of discomfort moving forward, and he’d stop. No questions asked. There would be no waiting until I finally had the courage to say no . . . if I ever did. His continued dedication to leading with the highest level of respect is the entire reason I trust him enough to cross this line. To give him all of me.
Lowering my feet to the floor, his hands trail up my body and tilt my chin up. Brushing his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes lock onto mine.
“Have you ever?” he asks, eyes gleaming with desire.
“I can’t remember.”
Without repeating history, the final answer is still held captive by my mind’s trigger guard.
“Neither can I,” he admits, chuckling through the sadness of that statement.
The consequence of uncomfortably running into a past lover has been erased, but the potential of a sacred, loyal love has been stolen.
“Hallee, this is the only time I’ll ask you—”
This plane is going down. How dare he quote me from our first date?
“Do you want this?”
I can’t speak. If I speak, my voice will break, and I’ll hear the sound, and the sound will remind me of all the times his voice has broken for me. All the times his heart has, too.
“You wanted to be defined by a great love, Hal. Whether we do this or not, we have achieved that. We have known and been marked by an undeniably great love.”
My head nods, shaking tears free as his lips fall to my forehead. There is no greater act of love, even if it’s our departing gift to one another.
We had taken it so slow, building our emotional connection and holding back the physical one. Should we have done it differently? The time was ticking past us, regardless of how hard we tried to stop it. Maybe in another life we will understand how a government could do this—how they could be so careless with their people.
For now, we are left to weather the brunt of their cruelty. Excuses of good intentions don’t erase the need for accountability. Someone should pay for the damage they’ve done, but our souls didn’t purchase the extra insurance coverage.
“Where’d my Sunshine go?” Dean’s words pull me from my thoughts, and my eyes return to his gravity. “There she is.”
He’s my whole world. We have reached the final descent of our fall together, and I couldn’t be more thankful for the leap we took from that very first date.
“I need to hear you say it, Hal.”
Smiling, I recall the words he’d said to me in the midst of my fear.
“I’ve got you, Dean. Let’s fall.”
Unleashing our caged passion, our bodies collide. His jacket hits the floor, and the sound echoes through my mind as I hear it from years past. As he lifts his shirt over his head, I watch his shoulders rise and fall. The pace of his expanding chest matches my pounding pulse.
Slowly, and delicately, he strips away the final barriers between us, revealing all of me to him. Hesitating for a moment, his eyes travel over my body. As I reach to nervously twist my hair, his hand catches mine midair.
“Stop,” he pleads. “Let me look at you.”
I laugh to cover how odd it feels to have someone know me this intimately. Nervous habit strikes again and I reach up, but he softly grabs my wrists.
“You are astonishing,” he whispers into my neck, laying me down gently.
Chills slide down my body with his hands. They’re slow but sure, engraving every inch of me into his mind. My hands match his pace, tracing my very own constellation onto him. This is love, this is trust, this is passion, and as our kiss deepens, the bow that held me together unties. Releasing the rest of me to him, I dissolve into his touch. Our bodies unite and travel to our very own galaxy where time is infinite and we are too.
We are too. We are too. We are too.
He is my moon and I am his sun, burning brightly until the stars appear and guide us back into the earth’s cold hands. Holding tightly to him, I silently beg his body to stay, now and forever.
“I love you,” he whispers as he softly kisses my lips.
“I love you.”
Tears soak the pillows as we hold each other. The high of surrendering to our great love, consumed by the reality that tonight is the final nail in our coffin. Each hammer down steals more air.
When morning comes, we will be on two separate sides of the fault line, relying on my scar tissue map to guide me home to its keeper.
There’s nothing to say in this intense joy, and intense sadness. No words will grant us the justice we deserve. No words will hold us together, so he upholds his promise from our very first date, holding me all night. My final request leaves my lips as I drift to sleep.
“Remember me happy, Dean.”
I’ll remember you happy, I promise.
Dean (Forty-Three minutes until Midnight)
Remember me happy, Hal.
Forty-three minutes until the new year demolishes our safe haven, and steady tears flow down my face as I hold her until I forget.
They promised it was a gift, allowing us to live a wonderfully wild life.
I bought into the sale of our souls, blindly following their promises and excitement about erasing the damage caused by generations before us.
I believed it was better to forget than dwell on past lives I had lived, people I had loved, friends I had lost. Their freedom seemed like the better option at the time. Now it feels like murder committed in the name of freedom.
How dare they make me forget the smile that stops time and shines happiness onto anyone in the room. The way her eyes light up when she smells fresh flowers at the market. The adorable way she sips coffee even when she knows it’s too hot. The way she feels like the past, present, and future all at once. The way her body fits in mine, perfectly in every way, and the way I could’ve loved her for a lifetime. Longer, even, and probably will, regardless of our circumstances. My mind will never know a love like this again, but my heart will hold onto it. Maybe it’ll even flare next year, beating faster to tell me she’s close to me.
The memories of our year cascade through my mind like a collage of photos that I can’t bear to lose. Pictures of the future, the life we would’ve lived, join in to enhance the sting. Riding bikes in the park, teaching her to cook, a perfectly pink sunset. A heart in ink on my arm, paint as blue as the night sky, laughter that feels like home.
Laying here is like watching us fall from the sky. For a while, we were floating. When did it change? We’ve been distracted enough that we’re past the point of parachute release. Nothing is going to stop our fall, and trying to get to her is like trying to move in zero gravity.
When she first realized we were falling, she thrashed around. Took almost a year for her to soak in all my peace. Now she’s frozen, hand outstretched, and it’s almost worse this way. Looks like a statue that will permanently shatter when she hits the ground.
My arm hurts from reaching. Even out of its socket, I’d come up short. I’m only an inch away. Would it be better if I was further?
Here in my arms, she’s peaceful. Deadweight. But our home’s about to break, and I’m not ready. Never would be.
I’ll take this love to the grave.