CHAPTER 56
Don’t let go of the memories that changed you, even if they hurt to revisit.
Today we’re reliving one of the memories that has fallen into a black hole, lost somewhere in the tangled mess of Finn’s mind.
It saddens me that so many pieces of our past are scattered, like fragments of a life we once had.
But I hold on to the fact that he’s here, now, and at least we have this—this chance to recreate those memories.
The tram rises slowly up the mountainside, and Finn stands behind me, his strong arms wrapped around me, his chin resting on my shoulder.
My hands clutch onto his forearms, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin through the soft cotton of his t-shirt.
His scent, a blend of leather, sandalwood, and the faintest trace of cologne, fills my senses, grounding me in this moment.
I turn my head to take in the view. The sprawling world below looks so small from up here, like a toy town, everything miniature and colorful. I’d forgotten about that, how small everything looks from this height.
The little boy next to us tugs on his dad’s hand and points to where he thinks his house is. I smile and feel Finn pull back and look down at me.His breath is warm against my ear as he speaks. “Do you want that, baby?”
I half-turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes search mine, gentle and filled with curiosity.
“What?”
He jerks his chin toward the family, his eyes flicking back to the little boy and his father. I follow his gaze, watching the scene unfold—the child’s giddy excitement, the father’s patient smile. It’s a beautiful picture, one that used to feel distant to me, like some foreign and unknown thing.
I’ve never felt like motherhood was in the cards for me.
For a long time, it was because I could barely keep myself on solid ground, so there was no way I could provide for another or feel qualified to keep them safe.
Nor did I lead the kind of life that had space for a child.
Way back when Finn and I had first been an item, I’d been too young to consider it.
My life, for the most part, has been a selfish one, purely about my wants, needs, and my own survival.
But like before, Finn changes things. Him being in my life shifts the future, along with my feelings on the matter, and there are definitely little secret hopes budding to life. So yeah, the possibility lingers.
I give him honesty, what I’ll always give him. “I don’t know.” He analyzes my features and nods.
“Do you?”
He thinks a moment. His gaze veers to some far-off place as if he’s lost to the same thoughts. “Same. I don’t know. Feels like things are too heavy right now to even think about it.”
“Yeah,” I nod, “But maybe someday.”
He tightens his hold on me, swaying us gently as the tram continues its ascent. “Maybe someday sounds good, baby. We’ve got time to figure it out.”
When the tram reaches the top of Sandia Peak, we exit last and walk around and through the visitor center.
We take our time, and I guide him down onto a familiar hiking trail.
Hands laced together, I lead him down an off-shoot path, one he took me to so many years ago.
We come to a large clearing, a meadow, and I continue on, pulling him to the center.
It feels like stepping back into a forgotten dream.
He laughs when I move his hands and stick them into his pockets.
He balked earlier when I told him he had to wear khaki cargo pants and a white T-shirt to help me recreate the exact memory.
I didn’t laugh, I just stared him down. When that didn’t work, I got down on my knees and showed him how very much I would appreciate it if he did this for me.
Needless to say, he grumbled about it, but I got my wish.
Now, standing in the same spot, wearing the same clothes, I grin up at him. “Now… ask me if I could have any superpower, what would it be?”
His brow quirks, and for a moment, he looks around like he’s searching for something to say, just like he did back then. I can see the wheels turning in his head, and it’s almost eerie how similar this is to that day. He had asked me question after question, eager to know everything about me.
Finally, he sighs and says, “If you could have any superpower, Lily, what would it be?”
I pick up a dandelion from the ground, twirling it between my fingers before blowing its tiny seeds into the wind. I shrug and say, “I’d choose to fly.”
I glance over at Finn. He’s still, and his eyes flutter and close.
He tilts his head like he’s trying to pull the memory from the depths of his mind.
For a few moments, we stand there in silence, the breeze gently lifting the dandelion seeds higher into the air.
I watch them take off to places unknown and give him the time he needs.
When his eyes open again, they’re softer, tinged with something fragile but real. I eliminate the distance between us and place my hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” he grants me with a sad smile. “Vague images, but it’s there. A few pieces of it, at least.”
My heart swells. “Really?” I ask, my voice filled with hope.
He nods, his soft grin spreading wider. “The feather this time…” He lifts his chin toward the dandelions floating through the air. I grab another. After taking a steadying breath, I blow, and one by one, the seeds part from the base and float up.
“Exactly that,” he says quietly, his gaze following the delicate movement of the tiny seeds. They drift away with the breeze, some float higher and higher until they’re out of sight, and a rare few land on the ground. “It’s there, Lily. Not the whole day, but this moment.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I fight them back, a smile breaking through.
“Show me the rest,” he whispers.
I move back to my original spot, slipping into the memory like it’s a second skin. “I say, ‘I’d like to fly’, and then I ask you what you’d choose. You say invisibility, which, honestly, wasn’t that surprising.”
His laugh is abrupt and gruff. “Really?”
“Yeah, Mr. Invisible,” I tease. “With my superpower, I could do more than just steal from the rich or spy on the neighbors. I’d be a bird and use my wings to fly away.
Travel. See the world. I’d go as far as my wings could take me.
” I pause, my voice softening as I look up at him.
“And then you said…‘Wait. I changed my mind. I choose flying. I want to be a bird.’”
Finn’s eyes close again, the same hint of vulnerability crossing his face as he whispers, “Yeah… I wanted to be with you. See the world with you.”
I smile, my heart swelling with the beauty packed in that memory. “And later that night, you wrote it down. ‘If she’s a bird… I am too.’”
“You asked me the next day, ‘What kind of birds, though?’ Did we decide?”
He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as the fresh mountain air dances around us and picks up enough to have some dandelion seeds taking off on their own and soaring away like weightless feathers.
“I told you to guess and spent the day humming tunes. And you still didn’t get it. You were dead set on swallows.”
“Well, yeah, for obvious reasons.” I smack his chest, and when I do, he catches my hand and holds it against him.
“Hummingbirds, dummy. Because they hum, like to music.”
He says, “Which is something you always did because you can’t sing to save your life.”
I point at him and he nips at my finger. I pull it away just in time. “You, sir. Are ruining this moment.”
He shakes his head and pulls me in for a tight hug. “Nah, nothing could ruin this moment.” I reluctantly agree and wrap my arms around him. Burning my face in his chest, I take in his comforting scent and the sense of safety his arms hold.
The memory of that day—the laughter, the questions, the quiet moments between us—it all comes flooding back.
And now, more than ever, I realize this is what I’ve always wanted.
What I longed for. Nothing else qualified as a beautiful life.
Because everything else would fall short if I didn’t have this and him to share it with.
The man whose pieces fit with mine in a way that locked us together and made us whole.
Someone who will hold me through the darkness, hold my hand through the chaos, through every up and down, and love me fiercely through it all.