Epilogue
Sullivan
Graduation
In the last four years, I’ve had four perfect nights. Four nights I wouldn’t change a thing about. That first night at The Front where I met the people I was meant to know, who would be there for me and support me through anything, including Knight, of course.
The second night was spring of sophomore year when I followed Knight’s truck out into the woods, and he fucked me like he loved me—because he did, in fact, actually love me.
There was the Christmas night I’ll never forget in the old, abandoned lake house with the man I knew held my heart in his large, generous hands, and there’s tonight. Graduation night.
Not the graduation itself where I walked across the stage to accept my bachelor’s degree while my mom, dad, sister, William, and Davy cheered for me all in a loud clump way too close to the stage for my liking.
Or the parties afterward where I hopped around with Chelsea and Shannon and the film kids to other fine arts grads’ houses and enjoyed their free beer.
And it wasn’t even because of the gift Deandre, Dillon, and Derek sent me—a whole new fucking car so I could finally ditch the Audi, although that in and of itself pushed the night a little closer into the top spots.
It wasn’t any of those things, though that did it.
It was after all of that. After the parties and the dinner with my ragtag family and the joyride I took my sister on in the new Four Runner.
It was after Shannon and I came up with our first true collaboration while sitting on someone’s back porch as I hummed out a tune in front of everyone listening while I was high on whatever blend was in the vape pen being passed around and buzzed from a second shot of tequila.
It was the best night the second I saw Knight running out of the raging house party toward my new car, checking over his shoulder to see that no one was watching where he was going, all the while grinning like a dope and hauling ass toward me, as agile as the latest first round draft pick for the NFL should be able to run so he can show all the coaches in Chicago that they made the right choice.
Needless to say, the last NFL season didn’t go as planned for most of the NFL teams and Chicago wound up with an injured and soon to be retired quarterback and the second to last spot in the draft.
They traded someone else to get a first round pick, and of course, that pick was Knight Winters—two time Heisman trophy winner and the greatest quarterback who’s ever played in the SEC.
“This is so comfortable,” he says before reaching for the back of my head to bring me in for a quick kiss. “Where are you taking me?”
“Camping.”
That’s all he needs to hear. He pumps the air with his fist as I pull away from the curb.
I hand him a bottle of water, and he chugs it the same way I did when I got into the car.
He tells me about his night, and I tell him about mine as we make our way out of town and into the nearby state park.
He’s laughing and beautiful and happy. I’m happy, too.
We don’t have long until he leaves for Chicago—half the summer—but we’re going home with plans to stay in the lake house and fix it up.
Not entirely, but enough to keep the elements out and ensure it doesn’t fall into the lake.
According to his mom, there are still no interested buyers, but Knight convinced her to give him one last try to make it sellable.
I suspect he intends to buy it soon but wants to keep it a surprise. It means too much to both of us now to let it go to just anyone. At least, I hope it does.
In the woods at two a.m., Knight and I erect a tent, start a fire, and blow up an air mattress before opening the Yeti.
“Snacks,” he says when he sees the sandwiches I brought. “Thank God.”
I grab the two chairs from the back of the Four Runner and open them up next to the fire. He wolfs down a sandwich, cracks open a beer, hands me one, too, and we finally sit to look up at the stars.
“What a fucking day.”
We reach for each other’s hands at the same time. Realizing this, I glance at him to find him grinning back at me. “Hey you,” I say.
“Hey. This is perfect.”
“Well, the apartment’s a mess, so…”
“It’s a gorgeous night.”
“And I’ve always liked being in the woods with you.”
“Same here.”
We clink bottles and sip, still staring at each other, the light from the fire casting beautiful shadows and highlights on his perfect face.
“I guess we made it,” I say.
“So far.”
“The plan is to keep going. In case you were worried I changed my mind.”
“I always worry you’ll change your mind,” he says.
“That’s why I have to keep reminding you I won’t.”
“Chicago’s not that far. Not half as bad as what we were thinking.”
“I know, and like you said, the season doesn’t last forever. You’ve turned me into a believer.”
“Yeah? A believer in what? Long distance relationships?”
I shake my head. “In us.”
His grip on my hand tightens. After a short silence, he says. “Hey, congratulations on graduation. I don’t think I said that yet.”
I let out a soft breath. “Thanks.” It wasn’t all that long ago when I was questioning whether I wanted to live to see this day, so it’s a big deal.
I’m still trying to learn how to take pride in my accomplishments, using Knight as my model for how to do everything the right way.
The first step is to acknowledge the compliment.
I’d like to say I learned that in therapy, but I’ve been to six first appointments with six different therapists, and I haven’t found anyone I’m comfortable with yet. I’ve promised Knight I’ll keep trying, even in Sunrise Point.
Once he and I got back on track, though, formal therapy feels less urgent. He’s been so patient with this new, more wrecked version of me, and I’ve learned to be more respectful of his own boundaries, and together, we’ve rebuilt our relationship, love, commitment, and sex included.
The confidence he gives me at home bleeds into everything I do, and while I’m far from healed, I am no longer incapable of joy or gratitude.
With no end to his love in sight, I can go at my own pace, and as long as he knows I’m with him no matter what—that he’s the only one I want, he allows it.
Hence his frequent need for reassurance. I don’t mind it.
“Yesterday, I watched seven videos on how to hang windows,” he volunteers.
“Oh yeah? What about foundation repair?”
He chuckles. “My mom asked what you wanted for graduation…”
“No.”
“They’ll be finished in a week.”
“Shut up, Knight. You’re such an asshole. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because maybe I like keeping secrets.”
“Well, you’re good at it. And so’s your mom, damn. She also gave me an amazing set of headphones.”
“It’s a football thing,” he says. “The decoy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Anyway, I didn’t want you to stress about me and the windows, like if something goes wrong. I didn’t want you to think I’d knock the place off its foundation or whatever.”
“I’m still not convinced that house is capable of standing up to power tools.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. Hey, did your dad and Davy tell you what they gave me?”
I stiffen in my seat. This is news. “They got you a gift?”
He lifts his brows, and his grin widens.
“What?” I ask, slightly horrified.
He shifts in his chair and thrusts his left arm toward me. On it, there’s a watch band with no watch. “Classy,” I deadpan.
He sets his beer bottle down in the dirt and unbuckles the leather strap before handing it over. Something is burned into the inside, and I have to squint and turn it toward the fire to make it out.
“It’s handmade,” Knight informs me.
I can sort of see that, but it’s also nice. The signs for Leo and Aquarius are there, along with the year of our birth. I’m the Leo. My smile is soft, and my throat tightens some. “This is cool.”
He takes it back from me and returns it securely to his wrist. “Never taking it off. Not until you put a ring on me anyway.”
I laugh at that. My dad and Davy—and yes they are a couple—have stayed clean, and I’d even call them healthy.
My dad had the ablation surgery in March, and it went great.
I was even able to be there since it was over spring break.
They’re now saving up to get a house together and move out of the trailer, although the place doesn’t smell nearly as bad as it used to since they both quit smoking.
Like with Knight’s uncles, it rattled my dad when Knight’s father died so unexpectedly.
I guess Davy made him realize he had something to live for.
And maybe I had something to do with it, too, but I’m not taking any credit there.
Despite what he said when he was coming out of anesthesia about how he wanted to always be here for me, it’s been his actions since that have spoken louder.
His calls, his attention, his overtures toward my mom to be involved in my sister’s life in whatever small way they’ll allow.
Every little thing means something, and it does nothing but justify the love I’ve had for him all these years, the belief that there was a good man in there somewhere. He gives me faith I’ll get better, too. One day.
“Speaking of power tools,” Knight says suggestively.
I give him an unimpressed look. “Really?”
He nods over his shoulder at the tent. “We can look at the stars from in there. Might be more comfortable.”
The tent has a wide open mesh top that does allow for stargazing while lying down. “I don’t feel like it’s gonna be the stars you’re looking at.”
“I’m looking at a future one right now.”
“So am I.”
“I’d like to take a closer look,” he says. “If you don’t mind.”
I finish my beer and stand. “Not at all.”