Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Iam a bundle of nerves this morning. As soon as I wake up, I look out the window, eyes on the sky, watching for any signs of the storm we know is coming. It’s overcast, but everything for now is calm. I nudge Dylan awake, and the smile he gives me as soon as his eyes open is enough to shatter me.
“G’morning, beautiful,” he says as he pulls me in for a kiss. “Are you ready for today?” His face is pensive, head tilting to the right as if to check in on me. It’s just like him to be the one making sure I’m okay. I’m sure he’s rattled with nerves but keeping them in check around me.
I hold my head high and tongue my cheek. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, trying to hide the quiver in my voice as I think of everything that’s going to take place today. Everything that could be. Everything that should be. That we both want it to be.
You can’t change the past, my dear.
I don’t need that today. We are going to do our damn best to change the past, Iris. I know she wants us to be successful. She’s just been trying to prepare me because of everything she’s gone through. The heartbreak she endured and is still reeling from, who knows how many years later.
I start off in the kitchen, brewing coffee, while Dylan lights a fire in the wood stove.
While the upstairs was toasty from the fire, it’s cool enough down here that I can see my breath.
I stole my favourite black hoodie from Dylan, and he threw a toque over his messy bed-head.
As I’m pouring in the maple pecan creamer, his arms wrap around my waist, and I lean back into him, never taking a single second with him for granted.
“Ready for your coffee?” I ask, and he hums in response, his lips glued to the back of my head.
Finally, I turn and hand him his favourite chipped mug, and he smirks as he takes it in his hand. “I think you make a better cup of coffee than me now.”
“Now?” I laugh because he’s right. I think back to my first time attempting to brew coffee and how I forgot to add the water.
The ways I’ve grown in the last two months we’ve spent together are almost unbelievable.
I can cook (kind of), make coffee, fish (still haven’t caught one yet, but I sure can cast), steer a boat (sometimes fall in), and take care of my car.
I’ve been flourishing at my job, getting ready to introduce a new creamer for the holiday season coming up.
One of the things I love so much about Dylan is that he never tried to change who I was but has helped me grow into an even stronger, more independent version of myself. For that, I’m forever grateful.
“Drink up, my love. We have a lot of work ahead of us this morning.”
He nods, and we go upstairs to our spot at the top of the lighthouse, our fold-out chairs placed at the window, waiting for us.
Our hands are clasped together as we sip our drinks and prepare for our day.
The view is stunning even without the sun, the waves crashing below us on the rocks, whitecaps forming as they get closer to land.
The odd seagull flies past, calling and diving into the water, looking for breakfast. There’s no golden light today, only a grey filter covering everything. It suits the day we have ahead of us.
All our supplies for today are in the shed outside, and as soon as we’re finished with our coffee, we’ll have a quick bite of toast and eggs and then get to work. I don’t rush us through, knowing how important this calm and quiet time together is.
He clears his throat beside me and places his mug on the floor by his chair.
“Luce, I’m not trying to be morbid or anything,” he starts, and I feel myself freeze.
I shake it off, and he takes my hand as he turns to face me.
I watch him run his tongue along his bottom lip, making sure he has his words right, before continuing.
“But if something happens today and I don’t make it out…
” He swallows, and I don’t miss the way he scratches at his thigh anxiously.
“If I don’t make it out, I don’t want you to end up like Iris.
Lucy, you have to promise me you won’t. You have so much life ahead of you.
So much more to live for and accomplish, and I can’t bear the thought of you ending up like her, heartbroken and alone.
I can’t, Luce—” His voice cracks, and tears form in his eyes.
He blinks them back. “Please promise me, Lucy.”
I let my own tears roll down my cheeks, the saltiness catching my tongue as they fall onto my parted lips. I’m trying to speak, but I can’t. I don’t know how I wouldn’t end up like Iris after losing him. “Dylan,” I croak. Wiping under my eyes, I close and open my mouth, but no words form.
“Please, Lucy,” he whispers, and I finally nod, my eyes closing as the tears spill out.
“Okay, Dylan. I promise. I won’t end up like her.” I open them and watch how he softens ever so slightly from my promise. “But you have to swear to me you will fight like hell today. I don’t want to have to keep that promise to you. I want you with me on the other side.”
He nods and then pulls me in, his lips parting as they meet mine, our tongues moving together in sync. It’s not heady like it was last night, but tender and filled with hopes and wants and promises we both pray we can keep. A future we both desperately wish for.
“Thank you,” he says as we pull apart. “Ready to get to work?” He picks up his mug and brings himself to a stand.
I take in the sight of him in his dark jeans and olive-green sweater.
His black toque still sits on his head, keeping all his wavy hair out of his face and eyes.
He’s absolutely stunning, all sharp lines and hard-cut muscles.
I take a mental picture, hoping I’ll never forget any detail of him.
I want this moment etched forever in my memory.
I squeeze his hand and stand up with him.
“Let’s fight like hell, Dylan.”
After pulling all the barricades out, we get to work setting them up along the edge of the cliffside behind the lighthouse.
We space them out and place them as close to the edge as we can manage without the risk of them falling off.
Then we attach the bright orange netting and run it along each of the rods.
When we’re finally done, we stand back to admire our work. The orange stands out among the grey haze surrounding us and screams stay away to anyone coming close. I turn to Dylan, who shrugs before clasping his hands together. “Hopefully, that does it. Now we wait and see,” he says.
We grab two camping chairs and park ourselves out in front of the lighthouse, facing the path into town. That way, anyone who walks toward us will be in our vision almost immediately. Hopefully, we can yell at the boys to turn around before they even get close to the cliff.
The cold is seeping into my bones, and I’ve noticed the wind is picking up a bit.
I stand and start pacing back and forth.
It’s early afternoon now, and still no sign of anyone.
The demolition must be getting ready to start soon, and that fact has been sitting on my mind.
Every noise we hear, my first worry is that it’s coming from the other side and the lighthouse is being torn down.
It’s safe to say I’m a bundle of nerves right now.
Dylan, on the other hand, is cool and calm, sitting quietly in his chair, hands resting on his thighs, eyes focused and facing the path.
I saw the crack in his relaxed facade earlier and know underneath, he must be worrying.
It starts to sprinkle, the wind blowing sideways and across my face.
I blink it away when a whooshing sound catches my attention.
Turning toward the barricades, I see that the wind is pushing them closer and closer to the edge.
Fuck, this wind is stronger than I expected.
Those weighted bases are heavy, but the wind pushes them like they’re filled with air rather than sand.
“Dylan!” I yell, pointing toward the slowly moving barricades.
He jumps up, running over to them and shifting them back.
I get up and help him, and when we’ve finally got them back and adjusted to where they were, others start to move ahead.
We move to those and shift them back, dancing back and forth between them all, trying to stop the wind from taking them down or over the edge.
Moving them closer to the lighthouse, we get them as far away from the cliffside as we can while still making sure they’re working as they should, barricading the edge from the two boys.
I head into the lighthouse for a moment to grab us two rain jackets.
Curiosity carries my feet into the entry room, where I press my ear to the door.
Nothing. Without hesitation, I crack the door open slightly, feeling a rush of air try to pull me through and out, but I plant my feet on the floor and peek my eyes through the small opening.
A construction crew is huddled together with their backs turned to me.
Behind them is a huge vehicle with a giant metal ball.
A driver sits in it on his phone while he waits for his command.
I slam the door shut and run through the lighthouse to the back door, getting outside and back to Dylan as quickly as I can.
“Dyl, they’re here. I just looked. They’re getting ready to tear the lighthouse down.
We have to go!” I run over to the barricades and adjust them even farther from the edge, praying that they’ll hold.
“We’ve blocked it off, and they haven’t shown up yet.
Maybe the orange caught their eye, or the storm stopped them.
I don’t know what happened, but they’re not here yet, and we have to go, Dylan. We’re out of time.”
I’m desperate to leave, so worried that if we wait any longer, it will be too late for both of us. And I can’t stay here if he’s not alive. I just can’t do it.