Chapter 108
NOVA play: To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra, Patrick Watson
After the ceremony, Tanya split the crowd up into organized press tours, leaving Milo and me free to wander the grounds on our own.
One of my favorite parts of the facility was the acres and acres of green space we’d made sure patients would have access to.
Milo and I had worked closely with a landscaper to make sure it was designed in such a way that people could walk the paths and find comfort in nature if they needed to clear their minds.
The feature that I’d spent the most time obsessing over, of course, was the pond.
It was much larger than the pond that had been in my dad’s backyard, but it still felt like coming home as Milo and I approached.
The sun glistened off the dark surface of the kidney bean-shaped water feature, and there was an arched, wooden bridge that led across the centre of it.
Milo and I crossed the bridge and paused in the middle.
Milo stepped up onto the bottom rung of the bridge’s railing so he could reach to lean his elbows across the banister, and I leaned up next to him, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face.
The pond was littered with lily pads, and we’d filled it with fish, a few turtles, and of course, lots of frogs.
“He would have been so proud of you for doing this,” Milo said softly, as we watched one of the frogs leap onto one of the lily pads beneath us. The corner of my mouth twitched as the little amphibian let out a tiny ribbit before hopping back into the water and shooting away.
“I hope so,” I hummed, and Milo rested his head on my shoulder.
“You did a good thing here, Jay.”
I nodded, just as two little boys rushed away from one of the nearby tour groups to the water’s edge on the other side of the pond.
Milo and I watched as they rolled their pants up to their knees and stepped right into the water, squealing at the feeling of mud squelching between their toes.
‘Whoa! Check out this frog, Danny!’
‘He’s so fat!’
‘He must be a master fly catcher.’
‘Better let him go so he can get more flies. Hey, let’s go to the other side! I think I can see a turtle sunbathing on that rock.’
My eyes burned again at the innocence of their exchange.
Suddenly, a warm breeze rustled across the water, causing the cattails to dance and Milo’s hair to sway.
“Hey… do you smell… saffron?” Milo asked, and my entire body tensed as I realized that I did.
“Seb?” I whispered, and Milo clutched my arm tightly.
“It feels like he’s here with us,” Milo whispered, and a hot tear slid down my cheek.
Maybe he really was meeting us at the pond.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the wind, hoping that those two words communicated all the things I wish I’d done differently… all the things I wish I could have done to save him.
There was another warm, saffron-infused gust of wind. Milo and I both closed our eyes as it gently rolled over us… and it felt like… it felt like forgiveness.
And it was there—wrapped in the warm, familiar scent of saffron, next to the man I loved—that I finally let the guilt of my past go and gave myself permission to heal.
The End