Chapter Forty-Two
Epilogue
KALLEN
SIX MONTHS LATER
Isn’t it kind of beautiful when people line up along the oceanfront to watch the sun rise?
Several eyes gaze to the horizon as beams of light shoot from the sea. An appreciation for the day ahead.
Once the Gold Coast waters start to glow, Dan gestures his hand toward the ocean. ‘Worth it, right?’
My mouth hooks into a smile. ‘Right,’ I agree before pecking him on the lips.
I get the sparks inside still, which I was afraid would dissipate after being with Dan for a month. But then one month turned to two, three. Now, we’ve been together for half a year.
I’ve been getting used to a plethora of things these past few months. Sleeping next to someone frequently, for one, and kitchen dinner dates most nights.
I’ve also been getting used to Salem’s long meows.
Never thought I’d see the day of me liking cats.
But, in the same vein as his owner, Salem has warmed my heart.
When he’s choosing to be nice and not attack Dan and I, that is.
This m orning, before we left Brisbane for sunrise on the Gold Coast, he was attempting to scratch us through the blanket like his nine lives depended on it.
Dan and I find a spot to sit on a rock overlooking the ocean, not speaking for a few beats as we watch the waves roll in and out from the shoreline. Dan starts scrolling on his phone. ‘The yearly recap videos are in full force at the moment,’ he groans.
Arching a brow, I say, ‘Honestly, that’s why I try to stay off my phone at this time of the year.
Everyone posts all the cool shit they did the last twelve months, and usually I’m left in a state of envy.
’ I pause. ‘Although, this year has been pretty good. It’s had its dumpster fire moments, but hey, a year of… firsts.’
Dan beams. ‘A year of firsts. You’re not wrong.’
‘I also can’t wait to descend into several food comas over Christmas,’ I add.
‘Have you packed for Melbourne?’ he asks, attempting to tickle my ribcage.
I playfully push his arms away, stifling a smirk. ‘Yes, I have packed…kind of.’
By kind of, I mean I’ve fished out my dusty suitcase and thrown a heap of clothes on my bed that I may or may not take.
‘Can’t wait for you to meet my family,’ Dan says, running his finger over the top of my back.
My knee begins to bounce. ‘Not gonna lie, I am nervous to say the least.’
‘Don’t worry. They’re gonna love you. ’
When the sun’s fully risen, we leave the beach. Dan drives us back to Brisbane, to our apartment building.
He tells me he’ll see me this arvo after I’m done packing, then leaves to get his own affairs in order before we hit the road tomorrow morning.
A seventeen-hundred-kilometre drive from Brisbane to Melbourne. The longest road trip I’ve ever been on, which initially made me worried that I would decease of boredom on the way down, but Dan says we’ll take our time and see sights along the way. Stay in a few hotels.
Good thing we booked a few months in advance, because it proved rather difficult to find pet-friendly hotels for Salem. Nothing but the best for the feline king. I just hope he doesn’t decide to kill us while we’re on the road.
*
By the time I finish my avocado on toast for breakfast, a message from Bella awaits:
Hope you have the best time down in Melbourne, I’m so jealous!
I reply: thanks Bella, love you xo, thankful I get to regularly message her now.
Then, I jump on my last phone session of the year with my psychologist, Jane. We mostly talk about plans for Christmas and how I hung out with my mother last week.
She asks how it made me feel to see Mum for the first time since the party. I say it felt different, that Mum has changed slightly. Turns out she stood up for me after her birthday and is rethinking her own relationship with Karen and co .
I know a genuine relationship between Mum and me will be no easy feat, even following the apology I received from her last week. But it’s nice to know she’s capable of changing her ways. And I feel a sense of hope for us.
Every time I get off a phone session with Jane, I feel a little lighter. Blake got me onto Jane as she works for the same mental health support company Blake’s counsellor, Carly, works at. Most of the staff there are queer themselves, so they can relate to things on a deeper level with us.
Blake’s been seeing Carly more frequently now that the baby is due to arrive in just four months.
Their surrogate, Hannah, got pregnant on the first try and is thriving.
Blake and Connor are going to be parents to a little boy, which still seems wild to me.
I’ve been shopping with Blake three times now for miniature clothes.
And Connor’s repainted the nursery five times, but are we surprised?
I pack more than I need for our road trip down to Melbourne, though at least the clothing choices are abundant for a two-week holiday.
Dan messages me at dusk, says he’s nearly done packing, that he’ll come get me for dinner soon. I check my apartment, moving through the list of to-dos I need to complete before I go:
Water house plants – check. Make sure there are no meat scraps in the bin so I don’t come home to maggots – check. Take the bins out in general – check . Don’t forget toiletries or phone charger – checked and packed.
‘I think we’re good to go,’ I whisper to myself.
*
The next morning at dawn, we hit the road in the Jimny. The M1 from Brisbane to the Gold Coast is beelined with cars, even worse than usual.
Eventually, two hours later, we pass Byron Bay, and the highway becomes less congested. Dan asks me what’s wrong, to which I tell him, ‘I dunno. I think I’m just a little sad, that’s all.’
‘Aw, babe.’ He reaches over, gathers my hand in his. He’s known me long enough now to spot when something’s up. And it goes both ways. ‘What’s going on up there?’
Before I go to speak, Salem lets out a long meow – akin to an opera singer’s final word – from the back seat.
‘Salem says he supports you about as much as his dad does,’ Dan says.
I can’t help but allow a smile. Then, ‘I think it’s just, the thought of us going down to stay at your dad’s for Christmas, it just makes me think about my dad .’
Dan’s face falters. He releases a soft sigh. ‘I thought you might, even before we first got on the road. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay,’ I quickly say.
Dan grips my hand a little tighter. ‘I know, I’m just sorry because I can relate…
sort of. Every time it’s Mother’s Day or my mum’s birthday, I get this sadness that rolls over me.
It’s not overwhelming or anything, but it’s still there, you know .
It reminds me of what I don’t have. But it’s completely normal to feel these things. ’
‘I know. It must be hard for you too sometimes.’
‘I think it’s a subconscious thing at this point,’ he says. ‘Fear of abandonment at times. Not that she chose to abandon me. But you know what I mean. But hey, babe, I just want to reassure you that you are loved, and you’re in good hands.’
I reach over and massage the back of his neck, then lightly pinch his shoulder. ‘Right back at you, mister.’
He always seems to know what to say to make me feel better. Feels like I’ve known him a lot longer than I have. Must be how comfortable I feel around him.
If someone were to ask me six months ago that I would have a boyfriend, let alone spend Christmas in Victoria with said boyfriend’s family, I would laugh and say, ‘good joke, very funny.’
But I guess sometimes the unexpected can happen. Even things we thought were out of reach. Things we’d only daydream of.
And sometimes, the best things in life are right under your nose.
Or if we’re talking about Dan Byers, it’s a person right beside you.
Side by Side.
Someone who seems opposite to us in the beginning, only to learn they’re not here to have everything in common with us – they’re here to coexist with us.
Took me some time, but I’ve realised.
Boy, have I realised.
THE END