Page 87 of Give Me Strength

I break the silence, my voice soft but steady. “I wish they could see us now,” I say, looking down at their graves. “I think they’d be happy for us.”

Ashlynn nods, her eyes misty but clear. “They would be,” she whispers. “Well, Rachel would. Mom might still be giving you a hard time about it.”

I swallow hard, emotions welling up inside me. “I’ve been thinking a lot about them lately. About how much they each meant to both of us. It’s hard not to feel guilty sometimes, for moving on, for finding happiness again.”

She turns to me, her expression gentle and understanding. “It’s okay to feel that way, Gilbert. But I think they would both want us to be happy. And Rachel… she’d want us to live our lives fully, not be trapped by the past. You wanted her to be happy, and I’m pretty sure she wanted the same for you.”

I nod, taking in her words. Ashlynn has always had a way of seeing things clearly, of cutting through the fog of my doubts and fears. “You’re right,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I know she would.”

We spend a few more minutes in quiet contemplation, each lost in our own thoughts. The sun continues its descent, casting long shadows across the ground. It’s a poignant reminder of time’s passage, of the inevitability of change.

After a while, Ashlynn breaks the silence. “Let’s go home,” she says softly. “But we’ll come back. We’ll always come back.”

I nod, filled with a deep sense of gratitude for her strength and her compassion. Visiting them, it’s a simple ritual, but it’s ours. It’s in these moments that I realize how much we’ve built — a life grounded in love and understanding. A life where we don’t shy away from the pain, we embrace it wholeheartedly.

As we turn to leave, I take one last look at Rachel’s grave, a silent promise forming in my heart. I’ll cherish the love I have now, with the woman standing beside me.

We walk back to the car holding hands and enjoying the crisp air, the crunch of gravel under our feet the only sound. There’s a lightness to our steps, a sense of optimism that feels earned. And as we drive away, the weight in my chest feels a little lighter. It’s not just about saying goodbye; it’s about acknowledging the past and embracing the future.

When we pull onto the main road, Ashlynn reaches across the console and takes my hand. Her touch is warm, reassuring. I glance over at her, and she smiles — a smile that holds a world of understanding and love.

We ride in comfortable silence, the sunset casting a golden glow over everything. I realize now, how far we’ve come. From the depths of pain and confusion, we’ve built something strong and beautiful. It’s been two years of growth, healing, and love. The journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it. I know that we’re heading toward a future filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities. And as my fingers curl around hers, I know that whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together, just as we always have.

EPILOGUE

GILBERT

Seven Years Later

It all feels so surreal, being here in the grand theater of the historic Palais Garnier. The grandeur of the historic opera house is breathtaking, with its gilded moldings, marble columns, and the magnificent chandelier hanging high above the audience. The air buzzes with anticipation, the murmurs of the crowd blending with the faint rustle of programs.

The stage is set for the classic tale of Romeo and Juliet, and my heart swells with pride and anticipation. Tonight is special, not just because of the venue, but because Ashlynn, now the principal dancer for the Paris Opera Ballet — one of the most prestigious ballet companies in Europe — is the star of the show tonight. She’s come so far, and I’m endlessly amazed by her grace, talent, and dedication. She’s not just my partner; she’s a force of nature, a true artist.

Sitting in the best seats in the house, I glance around, taking in the splendor. The plush red seats, the intricate detailing on the balconies, and the sheer size of the auditorium — it’s a place steeped in history and artistry.

Next to me are Bonnie and her new wife, Whitley, their excitement palpable. We chat quietly, discussing the beautiful theater and the anticipation for the evening’s performance. Bonnie is beaming with pride, eager to watch her niece’s performance. Whitley smiles warmly at me, sharing in the excitement. I nod, sharing her sentiments, though words feel inadequate to express the depth of my feelings.

The house lights dim, and a hush falls over the audience. The magnificent Chagall ceiling above us seems to come alive under the soft glow of the chandeliers. The overture begins, and the curtains slowly rise, revealing a stunning set that transports us to Verona. My heart races with a mix of nerves and excitement. As the performers take their places, my focus narrows to one person.

My Juliet: Ashlynn Crane.

She steps onto the stage with a grace and poise that takes my breath away. The audience falls silent, captivated by her presence. Her movements are fluid, her expressions genuine; embodying Juliet with every fiber of her being. I watch her, utterly mesmerized. Her beauty, her expressions, her movements, her dedication, the way she commands the stage — it’s all breathtaking.

As she dances, I can’t help but reminisce about our journey. The late-night rehearsals, the grueling auditions, the quiet moments of doubt and the exhilarating moments of success. We’ve faced our fair share of obstacles too, from misunderstandings and secrets that threatened to pull us apart, to long periods of separation due to her demanding career. But through it all, we’ve only grown stronger, finding strength and unity in each other. We’ve built a life together, one filled with love, respect, and anchored by a deep understanding and mutual respect for one another.

Seeing her now, in her element, achieving her dreams, fills me with an overwhelming sense of pride and love. She’s worked so hard to get here, and I’ve been privileged to witness her growth and transformation, to have been there for every triumph and every tear. She’s not just my soulmate and the woman I love; she’s an artist who moves hearts and minds, bringing stories to life with her every step.

The play progresses, each act more breathtaking than the last. The chemistry between Ashlynn and her partner is electric, their portrayal of the tragic lovers compelling and heart-wrenching. The audience is captivated, holding their breath during the intense moments and sighing collectively during the tender ones. But for me, all I see is her — her strength, her vulnerability, her unparalleled talent.

Tonight, as I watch her, I think about our future. We’ve talked about the places we want to explore together, and about the life we want to build. We’ve even talked about the possibility of starting a family someday, a topic that fills me with both excitement and a touch of nervousness. But I know, whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together, just as we’ve faced every challenge that’s come our way.

As the final act unfolds, the tragic love story of Romeo and Juliet reaches its heartbreaking climax. Ashlynn’s performance is exquisite, her portrayal of Juliet’s despair and love utterly convincing. The air is thick with emotion, the audience holding its collective breath. And even though I’ve seen this performance many times, I find myself gripping the armrests, caught up in the intensity of the moment. I watch her final moments on stage, my heart aching with the bittersweet beauty of it all.

The curtain falls, and the theater erupts in applause. The standing ovation is thunderous, and there is not a single dry eye in the audience. The lights come up, and I rise to my feet, clapping until my hands sting, my heart swelling with pride and love. But my applause is for more than just a performance — it’s for the incredible woman on that stage, the one who has captured my heart and continues to inspire me every day. As the cast takes their bows, Ashlynn steps forward, her face glows with joy and relief. Our eyes meet across the distance, and she smiles — a smile that says so much without words.

Anticipation lingers in the air as we file out of the theater, heightened by the grandeur of the evening. The night air is crisp and cool, the grand façade of the Palais Garnier illuminated, casting a magical glow over the square. Bonnie and Whitley walk alongside me as we head towards the stage door, the buzz of post-performance excitement palpable. A small crowd has gathered, a mix of devoted fans and curious onlookers, all eager to congratulate the dancers who brought the story of Romeo and Juliet to life.

When Ashlynn finally emerges, still in her stage makeup and a light wrap around her shoulders, she’s met with even more cheers and applause. She smiles, waves, and graciously begins signing autographs, taking the time to acknowledge each fan with genuine warmth.

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