“No, please don’t,” I say, finally turning to him and placing a finger over his lips. “I understand now, I do. I just—I wantedyouto understand. That’s why I was so angry at you. Not because of what you did—or at least, what Ithoughtyou did—but because in my mind, you betrayed me. My escape was no longer an escape. And that meant I had to actually face my grief head-on. It made me feel like I’d lost my mum all over again, and this time, I didn’t have a prince in a fantasy world to distract me on my darkest days.”
It’s humiliating, admitting all of this to him. But it’s also liberating. Not even Ember knows how deeply I retreated into my own mind during those early weeks of grief, or about the solace I found there. And she certainly doesn’t know what I’m about to share next.
“My whole world fell apart when my mum died, Zander,” I say quietly. “I eventually learned how to function again, took myself to work, kept myself alive, remembered how to laugh despite the gaping hole inside of me. And I know all of that will get easier as time passes—as you know yourself. But what I didn’t realize until coming on this trip is how I’ve let my life juststop. All the dreams I used to have, all the plans I had for my future...” I shake my head. “It’s like they died along with her. And I didn’t notice. Or maybe—maybe I didn’twantto notice. Ember told me. Even Sandy told me. I know they’ve been worried, but I just—it’s taken everything for me to survive day to day, let alone beyond that.”
Life isn’t about survival—life is beautiful, and it’s meant to belived.
More tears well in my eyes as Ember’s words return to me, words I gave little thought to when she said them, but now they’re burning in my chest.
“I forgot, you know,” I whisper in a choked voice. “About this—how big the world is.” I gesture to the forest, the mountains, the stars. “Being here these last few days, jumping out of helicopters and crawling through canyons and falling down waterfalls... you were right when you said there are parts I’ve enjoyed.” I scrunch my nose and quickly amend, “Not the waterfall part.ThatI could have done without.” A shudder leaves me, before I continue, “I used to dream about doing those kinds of things. When I was a kid, I always imagined going on adventures to discover the secret places of the world. My bedroom walls were covered in photos of far-off destinations, my bucket list pages long. Ember was the same—we spent hours making up stories of our escapades, the people we’d meet, the things we’d see, the dragons we’d slay.”
There’s a hint of amusement in Zander’s tone when he says, “More dragon slaying? I’m sensing a running theme here.”
My lips curl up at the edges. “So I might have had an overactive imaginationbeforedaydreaming about being with you in the Enchanted Vale. But I had to start somewhere, and in my defense, Ember and I did mostly stick with the real world, planning all the places we would one day visit: the pyramids of Egypt, the lost city of Petra, the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu and Mesa Verde and Khara-Khoto... the list went on and on.”
Melancholy hits me, and my voice turns quiet again. “Then Ember got sick, and we stopped dreaming about any of those places and focused only on getting her better. By the time that happened, we were older, and she’d found her love of acting and had new dreams for her future—and I was just so grateful that she was still alive tohavea future that I didn’t take the time to figure out what my own new dreams were. And then—and then Mum died, and after that...” I trail off, needing a moment to pull myself together all over again.
In a whisper, I repeat my earlier words, “My life stopped, Zander. I didn’t even realize how much I’ve been missing until everything from the last few days reminded me that there’s so much more to living than just being alive.” A strained laugh leaves me. “Isn’t that crazy? This ridiculous nightmare of a trip, where we’ve nearly died too many times to count—and youhavedied—is what made me remember how important it is to live. How didthathappen?”
It’s a rhetorical question, so I’m unsurprised when Zander doesn’t have an answer.
Sobering again, I say, my voice sad but thoughtful, “I know my mum would have wanted more for me. She’d want me to live my life, and to embrace every moment of it. She’d want me to go on all those adventures I once imagined. She’d want me to see the world and find my place in it, to learn and to love and most of all—” I swallow. “She’d want me to dream again. More than anything, she’d want that for me.”
Quietly, oh so quietly, Zander asks, “What doyouwant?”
My answer is just as soft, as if I’m afraid to say the words and what they will mean. But I find my courage and say, “I want that, too. I want to dream again. I want toliveagain.”
His arms around me give a squeeze, his voice rough as he says, “I’m glad.”
It’s only two words, but there’s enough emotion in them that I know he’s feeling them deeply. Almost as deeply as I am.
Silence falls upon us again, but it’s more peaceful than any we’ve yet shared. More than that, I feelhopefulfor the first time in a long time. A few days ago I could barely think further ahead than next week, but now, ideas and thoughts are sparking in my mind, memories of long-forgotten dreams being reawakened. My plan had always been to move away with Ember to study once we finished high school, but I realize that’s not something I want anymore. Not yet, at least. What I want is everything I just told Zander—I want to see the world, I want to find my place in it, I want tolive.
I have no idea how I’m going to do any of that, but right now, wanting it is enough. I’m excited about something for the first time in months—years, even—and it’s such a welcome change from my heartache that I nearly start crying all over again.
Instead, I lean further into Zander, staring up at the stars and letting everything we shared tonight settle deep within me.
It’s only when we’re both so cold that not even our combined body heat can keep us warm that we finally admit defeat and return to the cave. I don’t think twice before wrapping myself around him again, and for the second time tonight, I fall asleep on him. But this time I do it with a lighter heart...
And a smile on my lips.
I wake up with the rising sun—and with Charlie tangled in my arms.
For a moment, I just lie there, holding her, and thinking over everything she told me under the star-strewn sky. I’m both humbled and honored by how much she trusted me with the deepest, most painful parts of herself. I also feel as if a weight has lifted from my own shoulders after everything I shared in this cave, almost as if I can suddenly breathe again. I didn’t realize how much guilt I was carrying until I was finally able to speak about what happened with Maddox, and even with Summer. But now Charlie knows everything—and she doesn’t hate me. Not anymore. If anything, the way she clung to me last night, and the way she’s snuggling into me even now...
My heart skips a beat as I look at her, her features soft with sleep. She’s always been beautiful, but now that she’s lowered her defenses and allowed me to see who she truly is, I have no way to describe everything I feel as I hold her close.
Try not to fall in love with your stalker-fan, or I’ll never let you live it down.
I smile as I remember Summer’s threat, and how ridiculous I thought her words were at the time. Now, however...
As if sensing my gaze, Charlie stirs in my arms, her eyelids fluttering open. For a moment, she’s disoriented, blinking around the dawn-lit cave until she finally manages to focus on me.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hey,” I whisper back.
A soft, contented sound leaves her, and she presses deeper into me. Her next words come out muffled against my shirt, so I have to ask her to repeat them.