Epilogue
KIERAN
Five months later…
The last time I sat in a folding chair waiting for my name to be called, nobody had come.
I hadn't expected anyone to.
By the time I graduated high school, I had already learned not to look for familiar faces in a crowd.
When my name was called, I walked across the stage, accepted my diploma, and smiled for the photographer because that was what I was supposed to do. There had been applause. There was always applause. Then I found my seat again and waited for the ceremony to end.
Nobody took photographs of me afterward.
Nobody hugged me.
Nobody asked where I wanted to celebrate.
The day ended the same way most days did back then.
Alone.
A burst of laughter from somewhere in the audience pulled me back to the present. I looked up from the graduation program. For a second, my gaze snagged on a section several rows back. And right in the middle of all of them sat Thane.
The moment he caught me looking, he smiled. My stomach did that ridiculous little flip it still insisted on doing whenever he looked at me like that.
Five months later, and apparently, some things hadn't changed.
My phone vibrated against my leg. I glanced down. The Seattle Orcas group chat had been active all morning. Most of it was nonsense. A steady stream of congratulations, memes, and several messages from teammates who were either on vacation or scattered around the country for the offseason.
I shook my head and slipped the phone back into my pocket.
Then I looked toward the audience again.
They were still there.
All of them.
Waiting.
For me.
For the first time in my life, graduation didn't feel like something I was surviving.
My fingers brushed the edge of the graduation program resting in my lap.
A few months ago, I would have spent this entire ceremony wondering about all that was missing. Instead, I found myself thinking about a coffee shop and a woman sitting across from me with tears in her eyes.
Janelle.
We'd talked for nearly three hours. Some parts had been awkward. Some parts had hurt. Most of it had been overdue. She cried. Eventually, so did I.
Neither of us could change what happened nine years ago. Neither of us could go back and give twelve-year-old me the ending he'd wanted. But at least now she knew. She knew how much losing that adoption had hurt. She knew how long I'd carried it. And for the first time, I wasn't carrying it alone.
The wound was still there. Some scars always remained. But it wasn't hidden anymore.
A voice echoed through the auditorium speakers, pulling me back to the present.
Another graduate crossed the stage. Then another. Rows shifted forward as names were called and families cheered. One by one, students walked across the stage to collect the degrees they'd spent years working toward.
My row moved closer.
Then closer again.
My pulse picked up as the dean glanced down at the card in his hand.
"Kieran O'Connor."
I stood.
The walk across the stage wasn't long. A handshake. A smile. A diploma pressed into my hand. The kind of moment thousands of students experience every year.
Then the cheering started.
Tannen's whistle cut through the auditorium first. Briggs was somehow even louder. Jazz was laughing. Somebody shouted my name. And above all of it, I heard Thane.
My steps faltered for half a second. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Enough for me.
Because four years ago, when I graduated high school, nobody had been waiting for me when it was over.
This time was different.
This time, there were people in the audience who had shown up because they wanted to be here.
People who loved me.
People who stayed.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't have to wonder where I belonged.
The ceremony ended in a blur. One minute, I was finding my seat again. Next, hundreds of graduates were pouring into the aisles while families rushed forward with flowers, cameras, and enough excitement to fill the entire auditorium.
I barely made it ten feet before Tannen reached me first.
"Look at that," he announced loudly. "They actually gave you a degree."
I rolled my eyes.
Jazz snorted.
Briggs shook his head. "Ignore him. He's been waiting all day to say that."
"I had three different versions prepared," Tannen informed me.
"Nobody is surprised," Jazz said.
The argument continued around me while she filmed everything with her phone.
Somewhere behind them, Mrs. Hale was crying again.
Mr. Hale looked exactly as resigned as he had earlier.
And then Thane was there.
The noise didn't disappear. The crowd didn't vanish. But somehow, he became the only thing I could focus on.
The pride on his face hit me harder than walking across the stage had. Like this mattered to him every bit as much as it mattered to me. Maybe more.
He wrapped his arms around me before I could say anything. "You did it, baby."
The words were simple. So was the kiss he brushed against my forehead. But after everything that had happened over the past few months, I didn't need grand gestures anymore.
I already knew.
I knew who was going to be there when things mattered.
I knew who would celebrate the good days and help me through the hard ones.
I knew who was staying.
Around us, people talked over each other. Cameras flashed. Jazz was still recording. But the chaos felt like home.
And standing there with the people I loved surrounding me, I realized something.
The little boy who spent years waiting for someone to choose him would never have believed this day was possible.
Good thing he was wrong.