Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
The next morning, we wake up tangled together in the soft, warm sheets. Memories of his lips all over my body sit at the forefront of my mind. I bask in the feel of his arm around me and his chin resting on top of my head.
Right now, we could be any other couple.
A regular couple, waking up on a Sunday morning with plans of farmer’s markets and brunch on their minds.
Unfortunately, that’s not the case for us.
And as fun as last night was, how much I want it to keep happening, I still can’t stop thinking about everything I know and the situation that we’re in.
“You’re in your head. I can tell,” he muses from above.
“You can’t even see me,” I laugh, hugging him closer, not ready for any of this to end. He tilts my chin up and kisses me, soft and sweet this time. Our lips brush ever so slightly, and I can’t believe I have to go back to 2025 today. To leave him again.
“I like to think I know you by now, Luce,” he responds, and I think he’s right. He does know me. And I know him.
I kiss his nose before finally peeling myself away from him. “You might be right,” I say as I sit up to get out of bed. “Let’s get some coffee.”
Instead of having our coffee on the couch like we usually do, Dylan brings both of our mugs upstairs to the top of the lighthouse, and we sit on some fold-up chairs and look out at the ocean together.
The sun is out and casts a bright golden light over the open water as it rises higher in the sky.
There must not be much wind right now because the water seems eerily calm, waves lapping lightly as they make their way to the rocky shore below us.
He gives the lens in the centre of the room its usual clean before pulling his chair up next to mine and lacing my fingers in his.
Squeeze. Sip.
My heart flutters.
“Hey, I never asked you,” Dylan starts as he stares out at the ocean.
“Yeah?” I ask, with no clue what he’s about to say.
“In your year, I’d be what, sixty-three?
” He pauses and takes a slow sip of his coffee before continuing.
“Do you know if I still live in town? I’m assuming I’m not a lighthouse keeper anymore since you said that isn’t a thing in 2025.
” He pauses again and rubs his thumb over the sharp chip on his mug.
“Have you ever tried to find me in your time? Am I… happy?”
“Um,” is all I can bring myself to say. How do I answer this question? How do I tell him he’s not alive anymore? Do I keep lying, or is this my moment to tell him the truth?
“I’m a grumpy old man, aren’t I?” He nervously chuckles. “Have I lost all my hair?” He runs his hand through his long, thick locks, trying to get a reaction out of me.
I give him nothing.
“Luce?” he asks, concern settling on his face. “What aren’t you telling me?”
My eyes shift from him to the view and back again. My pulse quickens, and there’s an immediate tightness in my chest. I take a deep breath and place my coffee down on the floor beside me, then turn toward him.
“I haven’t seen you in my year,” I start cautiously.
“And the reason for that is…” I can’t stop the tears from falling down my face as I get ready to admit something to him that I still don’t even believe myself.
He squeezes my hand and waits for me to finish.
“You d-died, Dylan.” I choke on a sob that gets caught in my throat.
Died.
I stand up and leave, unable to function or breathe.
I take the stairs two at a time and run over to his bed, falling into it and silently crying into the closest pillow.
It feels like everything is caving in on me all at once, and I’m letting out every bottled-up emotion I’ve held on to since I first learned about this.
As my body shakes, a warm hand rests on my back and rubs soothingly while I sob.
God, while I sob. How selfish can I be? I’m not the one who just learned they die, and here I am, forcing him to comfort me. Get a grip, Lucy. Taking a breath, I steady my shaking and bring myself up to a seat on the bed, my knees tucked under my chin as I wrap my arms around my shins.
“Hey,” he offers quietly, as he gently palms my knee.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper as tears continue to roll down my cheeks.
I sniffle and wipe my nose with the sleeve of my pink sweatshirt.
So unattractive, but I don’t even care. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and I think admitting it out loud to him has been a sudden release for my body and emotions.
He leans over toward me and lightly kisses my forehead, the tip of my nose, and then finally places a peck on my shuddering lips.
“I love you, Dylan,” I say without thinking.
“Holy shit.” I cover my mouth with my hand, shocked that the phrase left my lips without my brain giving it the okay.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I tell him, the words racing off my tongue, trying to take back what I just admitted to him, fearful that he doesn’t feel the same way about me.
“Lucy,” his voice rasps. It’s deep and gruff, and he grabs my face in his hands and pulls me in for a kiss, my lips eagerly parting to greet his.
He pulls away and locks his emerald eyes on mine.
“You are magic. I love you too. So fucking much.” He traces a finger over my cheek and adds, “You have no idea.”
How is it I feel both overjoyed and utterly heartbroken simultaneously, hearing those words from him?
It’s like I’m staring at the person and the life I could have and I want to have, but in less than two months, it’s going to be ripped away from me, leaving me all alone, knowing what life with him was like, but lost forever.
“I want to do a lot of things right now to commemorate what we’ve both just said,” he tells me as he wraps his legs around me and laces his fingers behind my back. “But can you please talk to me about what you said earlier? How I—” He swallows. “Die.”
“Okay.” Everything in me wants to look away from him when I say this. I don’t know that I can handle telling him this while staring into his beautiful eyes, but I know I have to. I owe it to him to have this conversation and not lose it while doing so.
Taking another deep breath, I push all of my emotions and feelings down so I can continue. “On October 23 of 1993—” I don’t miss the way he winces slightly at the fast-approaching date. “—there’s a bad storm, and two brothers end up near the edge of the cliff here—”
“How?” he asks, his lips pulled together in a straight line, concern written all over his face.
“I-I don’t know. I think their family was visiting, and they somehow ended up here, and, well, you saved them. Apparently, you couldn’t pull yourself up from the ledge as well as them, so you told them to run home. By the time the police came, you were… gone.”
He’s as white as a ghost, all the colour drained from his face. Lifeless eyes look anywhere but at mine, and he swallows. “Do they ever find me?”
“No. I’m sorry, Dylan.” He’s white-knuckling me even tighter now. “You didn’t make it out of the water. They say your body probably washed out to sea.”
“Okay.” He rubs his jaw anxiously. “But the boys, they lived?”
“Yes!” I exclaim. “You saved them. You were a hero. That’s how you’re remembered.”
He pauses, and I can see he’s in his head right now, taking a minute to digest everything and come to terms with what I’ve told him. I stroke his head, tucking his wavy hair behind his ear.
“Okay,” he says again, sounding a bit more like himself now. “At least I was able to keep them safe. Then it’s not all for nothing.” A lone tear rolls down his cheek, and I catch it with my thumb and wipe it away. He turns his head and kisses it.
“There’s got to be something we can do, Dylan.” I can’t handle how he’s just accepting this. I finally have him, and I’m going to lose him, and he is fine with it. “We have to try.”
“Did you talk to Iris about this?” he asks, surely aware that I have.
“Yes,” I confess quietly.
“And what did she say?”
You can’t change the past, my dear.
“Sh-she didn’t know if we could do anything—but that doesn’t mean we can’t try!” I plead with him.
“I need to think about all of this, Lucy. This is a lot to take in right now.” He tilts his head and asks, “How long have you known?”
“I found out about it after the first time we met—but I didn’t know who you were at the time.
I learned about the lighthouse from my friend.
Then, when I talked to Iris for the first time, I realized you are the lighthouse keeper I read about.
” I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my sweater, nervously awaiting his response to everything I’ve kept from him.
“You’ve known that long and didn’t say anything?” He lets out a forceful breath and loosens his grip on my sides. “If-if it’s okay with you, Luce, I need to go for a walk. Clear my head before—”
My face falls, and he quickly adds, “Please don’t go anywhere. Can you wait for me? I just need to be alone for a minute. This is…” He rests his head on my knees, and a shudder escapes him. “A lot to process.”
“Yeah—yes, of course.” I pet his head and kiss the crown of it, trying to pour all of my love into him.
I want him to feel it. I need him to. To feel less alone, knowing that someone loves him so deeply.
Finally, his head lifts, and he offers the slightest upward curl of his lips.
It doesn’t meet his eyes, but it’s something.
And considering everything he just learned, it’s more than I could have expected.
Then he gives my knee a squeeze and pushes himself off the bed.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says as he turns to leave, his eyes glistening. “Please, Luce, wait for me.”
“Always,” I whisper, my vision blurring. I blink away tears and offer a half smile before he turns and walks down the stairs, out of sight.