Epilogue
Noah
FIVE YEARS LATER
A fter walking through the home I’ve built in East View, right on a hill with a picket fence just for Zoey, I lock up behind myself, feeling good about its progress. It’s just about done. It should get the big stamp of approval in a few weeks, then I’ll be able to start moving in over the summer.
It’s perfect. Maybe a little too big for just me, but it’s everything Zoey and I dreamed of having for our home—the home where we always planned to have children and make memories. Maybe it’s morbid of me to build my dead wife’s dream home as if I could somehow entice her to come back to me.
Fuck. I miss her. Every day still hurts.
The few months following her death were the hardest, and some days, I felt as though I let her down. I was drowning, allowing the darkness to swallow me whole, but I fought through it. The only thing that kept me afloat was the words she’d written on her laptop. I would read it over and over again, taking in our story from her perspective until I’d memorized every word she’d written.
Filling in those last final days tore me to shreds. I would sit there for days on end, listening to the soft sound of her recorded heartbeat while diving into the most haunted remains of my soul, recalling those whispered, broken words that were spoken as I held on to her, and she slipped away from me.
God, even now, five years later, it doesn’t get any easier.
I’ve kept myself distracted. When I have something to keep my mind running, I find I don’t get lost in the darkness quite so easily, but it does nothing to ease the gaping hole Zoey left inside my chest. But fuck, I would do it a million times over, just to relive those eighteen years. I would endure the most brutal pain to hold her one more time. To smell her. To kiss her and hear the sound of her voice telling me she loves me.
Her birthday messages have been a godsend. I’ve looked forward to them every year, clinging to her words like a starved junkie desperate for his next hit.
Just as Zoey had always hoped for me, I was signed to the NFL straight out of college, and I kept my head down, pushing my limits and stretching the boundaries. It means this past year, I’ve had to be away more than I’d like to be. I’ve always tried to keep close with Hazel. Zoey was right, we needed each other, especially in those twelve months following her death. We helped each other through it, and she was able to lean on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to lean on her. She was too young to have to deal with my pain too. But still, just being in her company and listening to her stories about Zoey was more than I needed from her.
Now, she’s seventeen and more trouble than any of us were prepared for. Linc would have loved it. She’s rebellious, and for the most part, it’s fucking hilarious, but her dad is going gray trying to keep up with her crazy ass. I promised Zoey I would watch out for her, and while Hazel is doing her best to push her own boundaries, sometimes I’ve needed to step in and make sure she’s not getting herself in trouble.
Today, she’s graduating, which is exactly what’s brought me back to East View. I just need to swing by my mom’s place, say hello and check in with Linc, and then I’ll be heading over to Zoey’s.
She hasn’t been there for five years, and I still refer to it as her place. I don’t think that will ever change.
All too aware of how much time I don’t have, I get back in my car and head down to Mom’s house. Not stopping to knock, I fly through the front door like always but stumble to a horrified stop when I see Mom and Principal Daniels making out on the couch like horny teenagers.
“Ah, fuck,” I grunt, turning away and wondering how much bleach I’ll need to pour directly into my eyeballs to be able to scrub that image from my mind.
Mom laughs and pulls herself off the couch as Daniels gets up and straightens his tie, neither of them looking the least bit sorry. They started seeing each other late last year after his wife ran off with her Pilates instructor, and honestly, my mom has never been happier. He’s good to her. He was always good to me too, even when I didn’t deserve it, and while I’m happy for her and wish them all the best, nothing will ever feel right about seeing your mother hooking up with your high-school principal.
“Noah, honey,” Mom says, striding right into me and throwing her arms around my neck, pulling me in tight. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
“What are you talking about? I’m late,” I say, glancing over her shoulder at Daniels. “And if I’m late, that means you’re definitely late.”
His brows furrow, and as he glances down at his watch, his eyes widen. “Ah, shit,” he grumbles, looking around for his suit jacket. “We must have lost track of time.”
Mom chuckles and smirks at Daniels as she pulls out of my arms and scoops up his jacket, holding it out to him. “It was worth it.”
He grins right back at her before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Damn straight it was,” he says, and then he’s out the door, hurrying toward his car.
I pull the door closed behind him and stride down the hall, detouring to Linc’s room and sitting with him for a minute before striding down to my old room. I haven’t been in here for a while, haven’t needed to, and for the most part, I try to avoid sleeping in any of the beds Zoey and I ever shared together. When I do, I’ve never felt so cold.
My hand closes around the door handle, and I push it open only to find my bedroom window wide open. My brows furrow, and I walk toward it, wondering why the fuck Mom would have left it open like that. She never does. Hell, she barely ever comes in here because most of the shit in here is filled with my memories of Zoey.
As I grip the window frame to close it, I’m knocked back a step as a massive fucking bird flies straight through. Its bright colors practically smack me in the face as it scrambles through my childhood bedroom, knocking shit over in a panic.
“Fuck,” I grunt, trying to catch it, only it evades me with ease before finally coming to a stop on my bedside table, its big wings knocking over the framed photo of Zoey from our wedding day.
The bird watches me, and I hold my hands out as if to tell it I mean no harm, and then I slowly inch toward it, preparing to grab it and shove it back out the window. I mean, fuck. What kind of bird is it anyway? It’s beautiful, but shit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like it.
As I creep across my room, the bird suddenly jumps, launching itself over to my bed, walking across the bedspread until it’s standing right on top of Zoey’s book, the one I had published that she’d titled Remember Us This Way.
I go to shoo it off, not caring where the hell it wants to stand, just not on that , but it keeps moving its feet, up and down like the bird version of stomping, and I pause, wondering if it’s trying to send me some kind of message.
Nah. That’s fucking ridiculous.
I move a little closer, and as I lean toward it, the chain around my neck falls forward, both of Zoey’s wedding rings dancing right in front of the bird’s face, catching its attention. The bird leans in and knocks its head against the rings, and I pull back, staring at it in wonder.
What in the ever-loving fuck?
Maybe I’ve taken a few too many hits to the head during training because, right now, I’m starting to wonder if this bird is my dead wife. She told me that if she could be reincarnated, she’d come back as a big, colorful bird that could soar high through the sky, and then she reminded me of that in the letter she left for me, telling me to keep my window open.
So either this is a really weird coincidence or . . .
“No fucking way,” I mutter, gazing at the bird, my heart launching right out of my chest.
The bird creeps toward me, and I hesitantly hold out my hand, certain it’s about to bite the whole fucking thing off with its strong beak. Instead, it rubs its head across my hand before gazing up at me. I crouch down, putting myself eye-to-eye with the bird. There’s something about it that tells me if this thing had a human face, it’d be smirking at me, smug as fuck.
“Am I crazy for thinking you’re my Zoey?” I ask, my voice shaking.
The bird just tilts its head as if to say, Yeah dude, you’re fucking crazy , and then it struts back toward my bedside table, jumping back onto it. Only this time, it settles right on top of the fallen photo frame.
I stare at the bird for a moment when I hear Mom making her way down the hall. “Noah, you’re going to be late for Hazel’s graduation,” she calls, the sound startling the bird as it shoots back toward the window frame.
“No,” I panic, racing toward the window as it goes to take off. Only it pauses, its head swiveling back to face me, and as the sun catches on its face and lights up its eyes, I could almost swear I see that same shade of green that I’ve loved so deeply for all these years.
And then it’s gone, shooting out into the sky, and soaring high among the trees.
I gape at it, watching its beauty as it flies, knowing without a doubt that was my girl.
My heart races, filling with undeniable, bittersweet joy, something I never thought I’d ever feel again, and I smile, unable to take my eyes off it until it flies so far that it’s not even a dot in the wide open sky. For the first time in five long years, I finally feel content. At peace.
Mom’s head appears in my room, staring at me as though I’ve truly lost my mind. “Earth to Noah. You need to scram,” she says. “Oh, and close that window. You’re going to let out all the cool air.”
My brows furrow, and I look back at her. “You didn’t open it?”
“No,” she grunts with a scoff. “You know how I feel about leaving windows open. You’re going to have all sorts of rodents coming in.” She mutters to herself about having to burn down the house if that were to ever happen, and before I know it, she’s gone, leaving me staring out the window again.
Twenty minutes later, I sit in the field at East View High, the late spring sun shining over the graduates as I watch some kid in a blue cap and gown make his way up onto the stage, stopping to shake hands with Principal Daniels before receiving his high-school diploma.
I clap on cue with the rest of the audience as Zoey’s father leans in. “That’s Hazel’s newest boyfriend.”
My brow arches as I gape at the scrawny kid. “The fuck?” I mutter, my gaze sailing over him and knowing this guy is nothing but a fling to irritate her father. Linc would be rolling in his grave if he knew about this one. “What the hell does she see in him?”
“Who knows. The kid looks like he struggles to comb his own hair.”
“Forget about combing his own hair,” I mutter, trying to keep my voice down. “What if there was an emergency? How the hell is he supposed to carry her out of a burning building? He couldn’t even lift his own dick. Hazel would have to carry him instead.”
Erica leans around her husband and swats at us. “Shut up, the both of you. Flynn is lovely.”
“I’m sure he is, but he’s not gonna cut it,” I tell her. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Hazel after. I’ll set her straight.”
Erica rolls her eyes, knowing I intend to stick to my word, even if it means going toe-to-toe with Hazel James, but it’ll be fine. She’s always respected my opinion . . . most of the time.
A few more kids get their diplomas before Hazel’s name is finally called, and I sit up a little straighter, watching as a beaming smile cuts across her face. It tears me in two. She looks so much like Zoey. It’s hard to believe that she’s almost the same age as Zoey was when she passed.
A shadow passes overhead, and as Hazel makes her way up onto the stage and toward Principal Daniels, my gaze shifts to the trees, and as that same colorful bird settles onto one of the tallest branches, my jaw drops again.
No fucking way. I’m definitely going insane. Perhaps I really have taken a few too many hits to the head on the football field.
Despite not wanting to tear my eyes off the bird, I force myself to watch Hazel accept her diploma, and as the bird squawks from the trees above, I stand and clap, congratulating Hazel, just as I know Zoey would. A knowing smile spreads across Hazel’s lips, and she glances up into the trees. I can’t help but wonder just how many bedroom windows this bird has been flying through.
When the graduation ceremony comes to a close and all the graduates take off toward their loved ones, Hazel comes right for me, throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing me tight. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I tell her, pulling back and meeting her stare, the curiosity getting the best of me before I get a chance to reel it in. Or hell, maybe I just need to know if it’s time to be checked into a mental institute. “Hey, when you were getting your diploma, what were you looking at?”
“Huh?” she says way too quickly, nervousness flashing in her eyes.
“You were looking up toward the trees,” I say.
“Oh, um . . . nothing,” she says awkwardly. “I, uh, gotta go. See you later.”
She starts to scurry away, and I narrow my gaze at her back, certain she knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about this Flynn kid later,” I call after her.
Hazel pauses, whipping back around to glare at her father. “You told him?” she hisses.
“Of course I did,” he scoffs, looking all too proud of himself. “How else am I supposed to get you to break up with him while thinking it was your idea?”
Hazel glares at her father. “Oh, we’re going to have words about this.”
“I look forward to it,” he laughs, and with that, Hazel storms away, heading toward the very boyfriend who’ll be nothing more than an ex within a matter of hours.
When all is said and done, I make my way back toward the parking lot, my hands buried deep in my pockets, when a feminine voice calls out behind me. “Noah.”
I whip back, my brows furrowed as I search through the sea of people making their way toward the parking lot when I spot a familiar face. “Hope?” I ask.
She smiles wide. “I wondered if you’d be here today.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I tell her. “But the real question is, what the hell are you doing here?”
A stupid grin stretches across her face, and she shrugs her shoulders, holding her hands out wide. “You’re looking at East View High’s newest English teacher.”
“No shit,” I say. “Good for you. How do you like it?”
“Honestly, it sucks. The students think that because I’m young, they can mess with me or that I’ll let them off the hook easier than other teachers would, but they’re starting to learn that I’m not the pushover they were hoping for.”
“Good,” I say. “How’s that boyfriend of yours? Or is he a fiancé now?”
She scrunches her face, cringing. “Yeah, he’s actually not doing so well,” she tells me. “He accidentally tripped and fell into his secretary’s vagina.”
“No shit.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she says. “Well, not really, but it was six months ago, so it doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say. “If you need someone to teach you how to slash tires, I can help with that.”
“It’s cute you think I don’t already know how,” she laughs before glancing back toward the school. “Listen, it was great seeing you, but I should probably get back. I volunteered to be on pack-up duty.”
I laugh, and just as she goes to turn away, a flash of color catches my eyes, and I glance up just in time to see the bird swooping low, so close it forces Hope back, and she lets out a terrified yelp, gasping as she falls.
I race in, throwing my arms out and quickly catching her before she hits the ground. “You good?” I ask, helping her back to her feet and making sure she’s balanced before letting go.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head, eyeing the bird hovering nearby in a peculiar way. “You know, it’s the weirdest thing. This bird has been following me around all week.”
“You don’t say?” I mutter, eyeing the bird with a wide grin. It starts stalking toward us and Hope inches closer to me, her shoulder pressing up against my arm as she watches the bird with caution, clearly not as thrilled with the bird as I am. Only I lift my hand to Hope’s lower back, trying to calm her, and the bird looks back to me, bowing its head, almost like a nod.
I gape at it, wondering if this is Zoey trying to send some kind of message. But what?
I’m struck by something she wrote in her letter, telling me that when the time came, when I was ready, she would send me a sign. She wrote I want you to find hope. But what if all this time, it’s been a different kind of hope she’s been wanting me to find?
Unease pounds through my veins, and I glance at the bird to find it holding my stare. It takes another step toward us, and Hope inches back again, her body now pressed right up against mine.
Is this really what Zoey wants? What she feels I need in my life?
The bird seems to nod again, as if reading my mind, and feeling the unease that pounds through my veins. It feels like this damn bird is silently daring me to take a chance, telling me that it’s time to find my new happiness and live again.
Then taking that chance, I shift my hand a little higher on Hope’s back, hoping like fuck I’m doing the right thing. “Hope, I . . . I know this is a little out of left field,” I say, certain that I sound like a moron, but I’ve never had to put myself out there like this before. “I was wondering if you’d want to have dinner with me tonight?”
Hope inches back just a little, looking up at me with wide blue eyes, clearly just as shocked as I am. “I, ummm . . . yeah. I think I would.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, the promise of a new adventure brimming in her eyes. “I’ve actually been meaning to reach out to you,” she tells me. “After I kicked Brent out, I was going through a bunch of my things and found some old photos from senior year, and well, most of them are with Zoey, and I wondered if you’d want to see them?”
“Yeah,” I tell her fondly, my gaze shifting back toward the bird. “I think I would.”
Hope beams up at me, and as a soft blush creeps into her cheeks, my heart starts to pound just a little bit faster. Behind us, the bird squawks before launching itself back into the sky.
And with that, it disappears into the distance, soaring through the clouds and flying high, flying free . But something tells me that’s not the last I’ll be seeing of this bird, and as I gaze up toward the bright sun— the sun in my sky —the ache finally starts to ease in my chest, and I smile, welcoming a new tomorrow, but never forgetting my past.