Epilogue YOUtopia
Epilogue:
YOUtopia
Alaina
A sense of calm washes over me as I touch the base of the tree trunk. “I told you,” I whisper. “I told you one day I’d bring him back and make him remember everything. I did it.”
The bark gently scratches my palm as I flatten it out, glancing above my head to see the re-built treehouse.
This is what it’s all been for. Not a love story, not a redemption arc.
Not just mind-blowing sex and beautiful tension, but this.
Building something that will last generations and really make a difference.
I can’t say for sure that our first attempt at a youth center will take off, but we have time.
And choosing this house — the house where Bash endured living with parents who suffered from ideologies bordering on religious psychosis, the house that I ran to when I was starving or scared — as our flagship seemed like a no-brainer.
This tree stood as a landmark of safety and peace then, and that’s what it’ll be once more. A place for the kids of Blackridge, Idaho to run to when they need help, support, or just a break, a place where the snacks are always stocked and acceptance is a guarantee.
This is the first of many we have lined up in all the cities I lived in, and if it goes well, we’re hoping to expand out. Build treehouses and safe spaces all across the country so no child ever has to feel alone, scared, or hungry again.
It’s the kind of place I desperately wish I’d have had when I was young.
“So you stay strong, okay?” I add, whispering once again to the tree. “You stay standing tall and proud and know that every single day, you’re making a difference. That you’re going to change lives with every ring you grow. You—”
Leaves crunch behind me, so I smile to myself as I drop my hand and slowly turn to face my future.
“Yes, Bash?”
“You were supposed to wait for me,” he says with a wistful smile, and his gaze is locked on me. “Were you talking to the tree, baby girl? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
He turns me back around so we can both stare at what we’ve built, his hands wrapped around me like we have all the time in the world.
Maybe we do.
“I was. I might’ve come here before the tour where I stalked you. What ever happened to the original, by the way? I never asked and couldn’t figure it out. It was gone by the time I came here.”
His arms tighten around me a little as he releases a breath.
“My parents destroyed it — or they started it, and I finished it. It was never as nice as this one we have now, but it was cozy. It was everything I needed, and when I was like 16, my parents came up here when I was at school and went through my shit. They found my music, magazines, weed, condoms... they lost their shit. I came home to find it all in a pile ready to be burned, and they tried to force me to light it. There’s more to the story, but it felt like they had tainted my space.
My mom put a cross up, left a bible where I used to leave my iPod, painted over my lyrics.
This place was my safe haven, and they ruined it, made me hate it.
I figured they didn’t want me to have somewhere I could be myself anyway, so I destroyed it hoping they couldn’t hold anything over my head anymore.
Sounds dumb now that I’m saying it out loud for the first time, but I regretted it the moment I stared down at the wood from the branches. I’m sorry you came back to nothing.”
Hugging him tightly, I shake my head. “It’s not stupid, and I don’t blame you at all. And hey, you getting rid of it allowed us to build one of our own. One that will help everyone.”
“Yeah, I guess I did. How about we go up there and check it out?”
He hasn’t let me up there once yet and I’m dying to see what he did with it. I was in charge of the house instead, renovating it and expanding on it to include beds, a rec room, an office, cafeteria, and a few other fun features — but this treehouse was his. “You’re finally going to let me?”
“Mmhm. Follow me.”
He rushes his way up the ladder and disappears inside, giving me a few seconds to smile up at the door and appreciate how far we’ve come.
But about five seconds is enough, I’m dying to see what’s inside.
This ladder is far sturdier than his ever was as I shimmy up, sucking in a breath and holding it before I peek my head in. I’m not disappointed.
Bash is sitting in the same spot he was when we met, his eyes dancing as I force myself not to stare at how good he looks and take in the space.
There’s familiar lyrics written on the walls from songs that got me through the hardest times, a record player next to a small bookshelf filled with vinyls from all of our favorite bands, and the mini fridge has a see-through door that shows it’s filled with waters and Dr. Pepper.
The snack shelf is every kid’s dream, stocked with all the classic favorites, and the same ones he shared with me so many years ago.
He has a blanket that looks like he bought it around Halloween that’s covered in little ghosts resting next to him, and when I meet his gaze again, he taps the spot for me to join him. “You’re safe now, sad girl. No one will ever hurt you again.”
Just when I thought I was healed, he proves me wrong.
The tears come instantly and violently, shocking both of us as I drop to my knees next to him and collapse into his arms. He’s right, of course, I’m safe now.
I’m not a sad girl or a ghost anymore, I’m a grown woman with a rewarding career, an amazing boyfriend, good friends, and a lot of life left to live.
I’m not crying because of any of that. I’m crying because that sad little ghost girl had no idea that every horror she was suffering, every wall she built and broke, every ounce of rot that stopped her from being a kid was worth it.
That one day, she’d turn that pain into strength.
She’d take her trauma and use it to help heal others, and that she’d never be alone again.
“I love you,” I whisper through a snot bubble. “So, so much. Thank you.”
“Of course, baby girl,” he breathes, holding me close so I can listen to his heartbeat as I calm.
I know him, I know what seeing me cry does to him, and yet, he makes no move to try and fuck me.
He just holds me until I’m able to look up at him, and even though his pupils blow at the sight of my tears, he doesn’t even blink.
“So fucking beautiful. Marry me, Alaina. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want to make you my wife. ”
And I’m crying again.
When he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box, I realize this was his plan all along and I’m over here ruining it with snot, drool, and tears.
My entire body trembles as I get back to my knees and nod like an idiot, trying and failing to speak. All the words get caught in my throat.
His eyes are glossy as he slides the ring onto my finger and leans down to kiss it three times.
“I used to daydream about so many things in this treehouse, but I never imagined I’d find someone I’d want to give forever to.
I didn’t know it then, but I had already met the only one for me.
You found me when I was twelve, and I was lost from the moment you disappeared.
My heart is yours, it’s always been yours. ”
Oh good, I’m gonna leave this treehouse just as dehydrated as I always did. Wiping my nose and mouth, I lean in to kiss him until I feel like I can finally speak again, then sit back. “Yes, Bash. I’ll marry you. But please don’t ever tell me what you used to daydream about.”
Chuckling, he looks up at the ceiling so I follow his gaze, but there’s nothing up there.
He does it to distract me from the fact that he just reached down to adjust himself.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s carve our names into the ceiling and start a tradition.
Maybe one day there will be hundreds of names up there from all the kids that find safety in here like we did. ”
Exhaling hard, I finally feel the tears receding for good. Well, for now at least. “That sounds like an amazing idea. Do you have your knife?”
“Always.” He pulls it out and hands it over, tugging me in for a kiss when I wrap my hand around it. “You first.”
Picking a spot takes a minute. I consider putting it in the corner so the attention would be on the other names, but ultimately decide to put it in the center.
Maybe it’s selfish, but we did this. We started this.
And one day, I’d like to come back in here and see how many names are added around us, see what we’ve created.
As Bash adds his name to mine, my heart fills with so much joy and hope that I don’t know where to put it all.
It’s been such a long journey from where I started to where I am now, but every single second was worth it, and I have every faith that Bash will protect me with everything he is as we move forward and navigate life together. Not alone.
Rot no longer stands a chance.
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