Chapter 39 Sadie
We’re perched on a huge granite rock, rewriting our memories of the last boulder we sat on together: instead of him telling me how much easier it would be if I were farther away, he wraps his arm around me, pulling me in close. I tip my head to his shoulder.
It all just feels so perfectly right.
I didn’t bother making coffee—today’s coffee can wait.
The sunrise, on the other hand, will happen whether we’re ready or not.
When the first rays peek out over the horizon, the view nearly takes my breath away. It is utterly unadorned: no clouds for as far as I can see, just a brilliant ball of fire making its way into the sky.
“It never gets old,” Thorn says. “I’ve seen a thousand sunrises—thousands, maybe. They’re never the same.”
I could tell him so many things right now: I could tell him how it took hours for me to fall asleep the night he was gone because I was worried he might not make it to Matteo, or back to us.
I could thank him for helping me realize I’m the sort of person who enjoys a good sunrise every bit as much as I enjoy my silk eye masks.
I could tell him that for all the ways this trip has been uncomfortable and challenging and terrifying, I’d do it all over again—especially if it meant I’d get to do it with him.
I could tell him all of this and more.
But our time is limited, and with every inch the sun climbs higher above the horizon, I’m reminded of the hardest thing I’ll have to tell him, only two hours from now: goodbye.
We sit together, soaking it all in for as long as we can.
And then it’s time to go.