72. Epilogue
Jake
“Ready?”
“Yeah.” He was. Maybe.
“It’s just like we did at home. No rush.”
Rye’s hand squeezed his, and Jake gave a firm nod, swallowed hard, and followed his boyfriend forward. Measured breaths, careful steps. Cane first, and then one foot and then the other. The boat dipped and swayed with the added weight as Jake stepped off the dock, and the knot in his stomach tightened, but only briefly. Jake let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Rye’s hand in his.
He could do this. More than that, he was looking forward to doing this.
“There we go,” Rye’s soft, calm voice reassured him, and Jake smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, okay. I’m good,” he managed, and he opened his eyes, his smile growing as he looked down at Rye. Rye’s gorgeous blue eyes sparkled in the early morning sunshine, making everything that much better. “I’m good,” Jake repeated, and Rye’s face lit up again, bursting with eagerness.
“I know it’s not Queensland, but—”
Jake shook his head. “This is incredible, and I’m so grateful you planned all of this. And I can’t wait.”
Rye was still smiling, and he glanced over his shoulder at the boat captain, Leah, who stood at the helm of the small private charter boat. Rye squeezed Jake’s hand in a silent signal, and Jake cleared his throat.
“We’re ready,” he told the captain, and she nodded in response, instructed them to make themselves comfortable, and took a few minutes to discuss their excursion with them .
They had four hours out on the boat, which would include about an hour of sailing out away from land, then two hours of guided snorkeling along one of the best stretches of Florida’s coral reefs before heading back to shore.
It was the culmination of their week-and-a-half-long road trip across the country. But more than that, it was really the culmination of two years’ worth of hard work from him and Rye to help him overcome his trauma and fear. About a year ago now, Jake had gotten back on a boat for the first time since his accident, thanks in large part to Rye’s encouragement and support. That first time had literally just been stepping onto the boat from the dock—one of Hal’s small rental boats back home in Rocky Cove—and then, carefully and over time, they’d worked up to taking short trips along the coast. They’d also slowly addressed Jake’s fear of being in the water—moving from just barely managing to let the waves hit his legs at the beach near his house to short swims together in the ocean. He wasn’t really confident yet; there was still that tiny tickle of anxiety in the back of his mind and that knot in his stomach. But he was at least fairly certain he’d be able to not only make it through this excursion but also have a wonderful time.
The outing to the coral reef—the only living coral reef that was a part of the continental US—had been a surprise to Jake until just last night, when Rye had finally told him why he’d picked this specific destination at the southmost end of the Florida Keys for the turnaround point on their road trip. Rye had lamented that he hoped someday they’d make it to Queensland so Jake could visit the Great Barrier Reef, like he’d said he wanted to, but Rye knew he still wasn’t ready to get on an airplane. The crowds and small, confined space would be too much. And that was just fine with Jake.
This —being here on a boat, about to go explore the coral reefs of the Florida Keys with his boyfriend—was just fine. Actually, it was more than fine. It was fantastic, and Jake had never felt more loved and supported. He’d never been happier.
Jake settled next to Rye in the small seats at the front of the boat, looping his arm loosely around Rye’s shoulders, and then Leah got the boat going and navigated them out of the small marina, heading southwest toward their destination. When Jake glanced over, Rye’s eyes were full of eagerness and love, and he grinned and bent down to whisper “I love you” in Rye’s ear. That made Rye’s cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink.
As the boat sailed, Leah told them all about the ecology of the reef, particularly the specific spot they were headed to, and some of the conservation efforts being made by local research groups and other organizations. Jake joined in, letting the conversation, and the closeness of his boyfriend, distract him .
About an hour after leaving the marina, they arrived and anchored the boat at one of a few mooring buoys along the shallow reef. Then they spent the next two hours in the warm, clear water, swimming with fish and marine life of all colors and sizes among the coral ridges. The highlight of Jake’s morning was the hawksbill sea turtle that swam lazily past them—and the look of pure joy on Rye’s face as they watched the turtle drift along on its way.
By the time they were finished and on the boat again, headed back toward the shore, Jake was both completely exhausted and utterly, perfectly, amazingly happy and content. He pulled Rye up against him, into his arms, as the two sat in the seats at the front of the boat, and he buried his face in Rye’s hair, which was damp and smelled strongly of the sea. Rye curled up against him, bringing his knees up onto the seat, and hummed with contentment.
“Thank you,” Jake murmured, though he knew there was so much more to say. “You... know how much this means to me.”
He swore he could feel Rye smiling against the thin fabric of his long-sleeve swim shirt, and he tightened his arms, closed his eyes, and breathed a kiss into Rye’s hair. Rye shifted then, tilting his head back. His cheeks were tinged pink, and probably at least a little of it was from how much sun they’d gotten already that day, but it sent Jake’s heart racing, and he leaned down and kissed one of Rye’s cheeks and then the other, and then the tip of his nose, which was also pink from the sun. Then he rested his forehead against Rye’s.
He wanted to give some long, articulate speech telling Rye all the reasons he felt so good and was so happy. He wanted to tell Rye how proud he was, how far Rye had come, how them being here together, taking this trip, this excursion, had brought him so much joy.
But all he could do in that moment was whisper another “I love you.”
When the boat docked back in the marina, Jake and Rye climbed off carefully, Rye holding Jake’s hand the whole time, and they thanked Leah again and then walked the short distance to their hotel, a four-story resort right on the water. As soon as the door closed behind them in their room, Rye turned around, wrapped his arms around Jake’s waist, and stretched up on his tiptoes. Their lips met in a kiss that somehow stayed soft and tender, despite the rush of emotions Jake felt. Rye pulled back first, and he was smiling, his eyes bright and happy.
And, god, it was beautiful.
Jake started to open his mouth to speak, but Rye beat him to it.
“That was so incredible. I hope...” Rye hesitated, his eyes searching Jake’s. The joy in them flickered, but only for half a second. Then he seemed to find what he was looking for. His smile grew, and he reached up and kissed Jake’s lips again. “I hope we can go sometime. To Australia, I mean. I hope... I’ll get there someday.”
Jake brought a hand up and brushed his fingers along Rye’s jaw. “ This was amazing,” he said. “This whole trip. The reef, the snorkeling.” He shook his head lightly, struggling to find the words he wanted to say, because he was feeling so much and everything so deeply. He tried anyway. “Both of us... we both fought to get here. And I love that we did it together. This was wonderful. This was... this was more than—” His voice faltered then, and he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.
Rye’s hands almost immediately found his cheeks, and he was pulled in for another kiss. This one was all warmth and love and reassurance. When they parted, Rye’s arms slipped back down around Jake’s waist, and Rye rested his head on Jake’s chest.
After a moment, Rye said, “You’ve given me so much. Since... since that very first day.” Rye squeezed him, but then seemed to shiver, and Jake felt the same—a sort of chill at the mention of that day nearly four years ago, when he’d first found Rye on his beach. He swallowed and held Rye a little tighter as Rye continued. “I’m so happy now. You make me happy, but also, I think... I think you taught me so much about how to live again after... after what happened to me. You showed me friendship and so much kindness and love. You... showed me how to be happy, and you helped me find my voice. You showed me that I... wasn’t really broken.”
“You just need help turning on the light sometimes,” Jake said with a weak laugh, echoing Rye’s words from so long ago.
Rye laughed, too, his breath warm against Jake’s chest, and he nodded. “Still.”
“I’ll be here to help you with that, always.”
There was a hesitation, and then Rye tipped his head back. His deep blue eyes were bright and full of love and joy. There was still pain there—a pain and darkness Jake knew was just part of who Rye was, a product of everything that had happened to him. It would probably always be there. Yet it was overshadowed by a wonderful eagerness, by love and hope, by light.
That brilliance took Jake’s breath away and made his heart stutter. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to Rye’s forehead in the softest of kisses.
“Always,” he repeated.
Rye hummed contentedly. And he didn’t say anything more, but, really, he didn’t have to.
The end.