Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Ipull over in my usual spot, turning the car off and rolling the windows down. A cool breeze floats past me, the smell of salt sharp in the crisp fall air, and with shaking hands, I grab the papers I carefully placed on the passenger seat beside me.
Flipping the first one over, I recognize it instantly.
The first portrait he drew of me, on the day we met.
I run my finger along my fiery expression and can’t help but laugh at how I was so improperly dressed for the weather he’d been expecting.
He never told me about his drawings, but the fact that he chose to share this with me now means more than I can say.
I flip over the next paper and see that it’s another drawing. Me, curled up on the couch in his sweater, a mug of steaming coffee at my lips. I look happy.
The third is a drawing of me on his bed, covers wrapped around my bare body, hair a mess and falling onto the pillow beside me. An open book sits on the end table beside me. My eyes are shut, and there’s a small smile drawn on my face.
The final drawing is the two of us, and this one causes a gasp to escape as I look at it. It’s the only proof of our relationship, of our existence together. I’m sitting on his lap on the chair at his desk, legs wrapped around him, his lips pressed to my forehead. Eyes shut. In love.
They’re beautiful. All of them. But this last one, of the two of us, is one I will cherish forever.
Our only photo together, in a sense. I place it down on the seat and flip over the last piece of paper, noticing that it’s a handwritten letter.
His scratchy writing, done with a pencil, has stood the test of time.
I can tell that Iris took care of these and kept them safe over the years.
I take another deep breath and prepare myself to read the last words Dylan will ever say to me.
Our final conversation.
Lucy,
If you’re reading this, then I know, sadly, that I didn’t make it.
And you’re back in 2025, where you belong, without me.
For that, I’m sorry. I hope you know that I would have given anything to be there with you.
To spend the rest of forever with you. But unfortunately, fate had other plans for me.
Please, Lucy, remember your promise. The last thing I would ever want is to know that you’re heartbroken and miserable. Alone and scared. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my girl is a fiery, independent, incredibly smart, and beautiful woman who is going to take the world by storm.
Don’t let this dull your light, Luce. The world needs you. Your friends and family need you. I need you to be okay.
I love you more than words can say, and if you love me as much as you say, then please keep your promise. Keep shining. Keep living. And keep loving. You deserve that and more.
I love you, Lucy Brooks. Forever and always.
I wish things could have been different.
Please be safe.
Dylan Hart *your aggravating mystery lighthouse keeper
I clutch the letter to my chest, his words nestling down deep into my soul.
Dylan. I can’t believe he thought of this.
Of a final goodbye. I’m still upset with Iris, but after reading this, I’m so thankful she cared for it as deeply as she did and kept it all this time for me.
I needed this today, and as heartbroken as I am, I feel the slightest bit stronger from his words.
From knowing how much he loved me and believed in me.
I need to start believing in myself more.
It’s time to say goodbye. As much as I don’t want to.
I step out of the car and walk down the stone pathway to where the lighthouse once was.
The cliffside is bare with the exception of small chunks of concrete and pieces of wood that didn’t make it into the back of a truck.
For a structure that stood tall for so long, they sure made quick work of destroying it.
I think of all the history that lived in that lighthouse and can’t help but feel partly responsible for its demise.
If I hadn’t started going, it would still be standing upright.
According to Iris, it only started to fall apart because I was visiting, going back and forth between the past and the present.
She knew enough to stop. I didn’t. I crouch down when I get to the spot where it stood and run my hands over the smooth rocks littered with concrete crumbs and dying grass poking through the cracks.
As the concrete pricks my palm, I hear the crunch of footsteps approaching me from behind. Turning around, I almost pass out. My mind must be playing tricks on me.
This can’t be real.