Sixteen
Ethan
Her beauty takes my breath away.
For a moment, I thought I had gone to heaven.
Cliché as that may sound, the color of her dress, the way her hair is styled, and her smile brought me back to the moment I first fell in love with her.
And not just her, but being around her. The need and want to be with her all the time are consuming me.
And now I’m staring at her like a creepy stalker as she takes a small bite of her cake.
“You’ve been staring at her like that all night,” Richard, Lily’s father, says, pulling my eyes away from her.
“Sorry. I can’t help it,” I say unashamedly.
He lets out a deep baritone chuckle, a comforting sound I’ve heard for decades. “You’ve had that exact same look in your eyes when you look at my daughter since you were sixteen years old, Ethan. Good to see some things haven’t faded with time.” His words, while light, carry the weight of sadness.
There’s a tightness in my chest, a prickle of unease I can’t shake. “Richard, Lily seems to be sicker than normal. Is there something going on with her?” I ask.
He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his bourbon.
His gaze, however, never leaves Lily, and he watches her with an almost painful tenderness.
“My Lily is doing the best that she can given all that is being shoved into her life, Ethan. She’s strong, and it’s just another battle she has to get through,” he says.
“What does that mean?” I ask, frustrated.
He turns back to me. “It’s not my story to tell. If she feels ready to share with you, she will. But for now, just keep doing what you’re doing. For Jake and Maddy.”
I let out a long, shuddering sigh and turn back to Lily. “I never stopped loving her,” I confess.
“I know,” he replies.
“But I gave up on her. On us,” I add, ashamed.
He places a heavy, comforting hand on my shoulder.
“I’m not here to judge you, Ethan, or Lily.
Despite what happened between you two, it’s never been our place to intervene.
But what I can say is not once, not a single day after the divorce, did you ever stray from being there for your children.
And that means everything. All I ask of you now is to keep that bond with them stronger than ever. You’re a good man, Ethan.”
He gives my shoulder a final, reassuring squeeze and walks away toward his wife.
He leaves me stewing in ‘what the hell does that mean’ limbo.
“You’re still here?”
I toss the last garbage bag into the bin and turn to face Lily. “Yeah. I was waiting for you.”
Her brow furrows slightly, a hint of confusion in her tired eyes. “Oh? What for?”
“For your gift,” I reply in a measured tone, though inside, everything is spinning.
A wistful smile touches her lips, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “My gift? You mean this whole evening wasn’t your gift?”
I shake my head. “Nope. That was all your sister’s and the kids’ idea. I was just the helper.” I extend my hand, palm up, a silent invitation for a chance to rewrite our story. “Care to take a chance with me?”
She wraps the sweater tighter around her.
Her gaze lingers on my outstretched hand for a long, agonizing beat.
The hesitation is palpable, a silent battle playing out in her tired eyes.
Then she finally surrenders. “I think some chances are worth taking,” she whispers.
Her fingers, cool and soft, slip into mine, the touch instantly transporting me back to the nights we spent holding hands while walking on the beach at sunset.
My hand closes around her dainty one, and I realize how much I missed the simple connection. I lead her back to one of the oversized beanbag chairs set up under the soft glow of the Christmas lights.
She sinks into the beanbag, her gaze curious but excited.
I switch on the rented karaoke machine and search for the song that brings me back to a time when everything felt right between us before I ruined it all.
It was a promise then. A promise I didn’t keep.
A promise I broke, too blinded to see I was losing my other half.
“Right Here Waiting” by Richard Marx begins to fill the speakers. Grabbing the microphone, my hand shaking, I wait for the lyrics to scroll across the screen.
I take a deep breath, the lyrics catching in my throat, but I belt them out, pouring every agonizing emotion I’ve been suppressing for four years of suffocating silence. The regret, the longing, the aching realization of what I threw away all comes out in the strained notes.
This is my desperate way of reminding her of a time when life felt simpler, when our laughter came easier, and when I never, not for a single moment, forgot how much we loved each other, what we meant to each other.
Once I reach the bridge, my voice cracking slightly, I walk over to her. I get down on one knee and take her hand in mine, singing the rest of the lyrics directly to her, my gaze locked on hers.
Tears stream down her face, her lips trembling.
As the last note fades, the silence that follows is deafening.
My own eyes are misty, her beautiful face blurring, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I am looking at the love of my life.
The one I hurt with casual cruelty. The one I betrayed.
The one I gave up on believing I could ever truly be whole without her.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Lily,” I say roughly, my voice barely a whisper, “but I… I want this chance with you to start over. Even if it’s just as friends. Because…” I choke up, the words catching painfully in my throat, “Because I can’t be without you.”
She leans in and wraps her arms tightly around my neck, pulling me into her. Her body shakes with silent sobs. No words are spoken, only the soft sound of her crying, the muffled sniffles, and the crushing weight of all our shared heartbreak.
Today, tomorrow, and always, I promise to choose Lily. To choose my Sunshine.