Epilogue II
I slam my car door and lean against it for a moment, rubbing at my eyes and fighting the exhaustion wanting to pull me under.
I’m fucking tired.
I’m always fucking tired now.
I’ve been playing football on a scholarship at Calhoun University the last two years with Landon—which is awesome.
But I’m barely scraping by in life.
After my arrest, I was nervous they’d rescind their offer. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen that happen to an athlete that got in trouble. But it turned out to be a nonissue once my charges were dropped after Carter was arrested on his many offenses.
Declan was going to another smaller local university, so we still got to see each other pretty often in those first few months around my crazy football schedule.
But, right around that time, my mom officially filed for divorce from Scott.
He immediately froze my mom out of all of the bank accounts, so I had to pick up a part time job to help her make ends meet.
Scott had always been very possessive of my mom while treating her like garbage in the same breath, so there was no doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t make anything about the divorce easy.
But I completely underestimated the amount of spite he could pack into the process.
At every opportunity he possibly could, he’s made our lives hell.
So although we were able to persuade the courts to make him pay for all of my mom’s legal fees, we couldn’t get much else in the meantime. And he was doing all he could to drag the process out.
She needed a new place. She needed to eat.
My mom begged me not to get a job. She said she could handle it and that I needed to focus on school. To follow my dreams.
But I couldn’t go off and watch her work herself to the bone just so she could survive, while I sat up in my dorm twiddling my thumbs in my free time.
I went out and got a job at a car wash and tried to juggle that plus football and school, plus seeing Declan whenever I could, which honestly wasn’t as much as I’d liked.
Then… the car wash alone wasn’t quite cutting it, so I found another gig where I could bartend a few nights a week.
We rented my mom a little two bedroom house a few streets over. And when I’m not at one of my jobs, practice, or working toward my business degree, I’m there helping her around the house—usually with Declan in tow.
There’s barely any time built in for me to just sleep.
I trudge up to the front door of my mom’s house and quietly unlock it. The bar I work at closes at two in the morning, and we’re on break from school right now, so after cashing out the last customers and wiping everything down, I managed to get to her house by three.
My mom is definitely asleep, and even though she probably has some leftovers waiting for me in the fridge, I don’t even think I have the energy to throw something in the microwave.
But… I do smell a mixture of spices in the air. Like she’s cooking right now.
I go in the kitchen to check and see the only thing that could possibly lift my spirits right now.
Declan aggressively grinds something in my mom’s pilón, taking a quick break to set the mortar and pestle down and wipe his brow. His lavender-colored hair is a little longer than usual, so he has it pulled into a little bun on top of his head. Deep, green shadow lines his eyes.
He’s a vision. But he always has been.
“Hey, munequito.”
He startles, his shoulders jumping as he lets out a gasp. “Shit. You scared me. Why are you sneaking around?”
I shrug and walk toward him. “It’s three in the morning. I didn’t want to wake my mom.”
He waves his hand dismissively and picks the pilón back up to continue mashing what I now see is plantains. “She went to bed a while ago. But not before cursing me out in Spanish for being impossible to teach. I’m not a very good cook, so I hope we don’t die.”
I let out a chuckle. “Mofongo?”
He nods absently as he continues abusing the plantains.
I reach out, gently grasping his chin and raising it to meet my eye. “Why did you do this?” I ask quietly.
Declan lowers his eyes sheepishly before speaking. “You’ve been working so hard. I missed you. I wanted to do something nice for you.”
I smile at him, because I know that’s part of the truth. The other part is that he’s needed some distractions in his life.
A few weeks ago, Carter’s trial came to a conclusion.
Declan and the other survivors were largely responsible for keeping each other strong. I was there for him how I could—Harold and Nancy too. The three of us were at every trial date, providing all the moral support we could muster. But only the survivors really knew what he was going through.
There were a lot of issues that came up during the trial. They could never definitively provide proof of drugging for any of the crimes, and for some, they couldn’t even prove that an assault may have taken place.
We always knew there was a chance that he could get a lenient sentence. His father was a prominent member of the community. They had a lot of money.
But then, we got a huge break. They found a copy of the video Carter made of Declan’s assault and it was admitted into evidence.
It was, of course, so painful for him to have to relive. The whole trial had been painful for him.
And now that it’s over, with Carter being convicted of all six assaults and sentenced to fifteen years in prison, we can finally breathe.
But I know it still weighs on him. It’s an ideal outcome, but it didn’t come without its scars. Carter was punished. But it all still happened. And that can never be undone.
I swoop down, taking his mouth in a kiss that tells him how much this means to me. Our tongues tangle, the taste of his strawberry lip balm overwhelms my senses, settling all my nerves.
The kiss ends unhurriedly. Gradually slowing until I can drag his bottom lip out of my mouth. “Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
He smiles and steals another languid kiss. “I have to finish the food,” he says.
“Marry me.”
He scoffs and gives one last quick kiss before turning away. “Okay. Sure,” he says with humor in his voice.
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah. Yeah,” he mutters without looking at me.
I quickly walk to the room I stay at in my Mom’s house, rummaging through the night stand before returning, kneeling on the floor, and holding out my hands to him.
His eyes catch on the movement and he does a double take before all the color drains from his face. “What are you doing? Did you drop something?” His eyes flick to my hand. “What the fuck is that? Javier, what the fuck is that?!” he shrieks at me.
“I think you know what it is,” I drawl as I extend my arm as far as I can, making sure the ring and its box is as close to him as possible.
“Are you serious?!”
I smirk. “I told you I was.”
“But—but when? How do you just have a ring ready?”
“I bought it the day after graduation.”
“Two years ago?!”
I nod, thinking back to the time I passed it in a random store window. A simple silver band with an inlay of purple glittering stones. The moment I saw it, I was rushed with images of his hair. The irises. It had to be for him. “I wasn’t sure when I was going to use it, I just knew I wanted to.”
“But, we’re only twenty,” he says in a panic.
I nod. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You are unapologetically yourself.
Since that first meeting in the hallway, you’ve consumed every part of me, whether you wanted to or not.
It doesn’t matter how old we are. If you need to wait, I’ll respect that.
But I know in every part of me that you’re the one who will be there in the end. ”
His gray eyes sparkle under the fluorescent kitchen lighting. “This is crazy,” he whispers.
“When have we ever been sane?”
A slow smile stretches across his face as a lone tear travels down his cheek, creating a trail tainted with the deep green shadow. “Yes.”
I scoop him up in my arms, kissing him deeply as he wraps his legs around my waist.
“I love you, Declan. Now you’ll be my pretty little doll forever.”
He laughs. “I wouldn’t want anything else in life.”