Page 98 of The Sun and the Moon
She sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
I tuck my arm around her shoulder, tugging her close.
“No one ever feels ready,” I say. “Even when they are.”
Music begins to play. I let go of Lola, but I hope it’s not really letting go. I want her in my life somehow, even if it’s just random texts, FaceTimes at two a.m. I hope she wants that, too.
I have just made my way back to Sydney when I see Moira, dressed in head-to-toe midnight blue, and Rick beside her, wearing a matching bow tie, as they walk out into the pink glow of the sunset. They don’t know we’re here, not yet.
“How long until they see us?” she asks, leaning into me as I dip in to kiss her cheek. I can’t believe I get to just do that with her. Hopefully forever and ever.
Always.
“Less than sixty seconds,” I reply as a swell of music begins to play. I recognize the melody immediately as the classic Etta James song “At Last.” It seems fitting for them, two people who have had to wait until later in their lives to find each other. As they start to descend the stairs toward the gazebo, I curl my pinky around Sydney’s, and she tightens hers into a promise.
Together we slip between guests who line the walkway until we’re right at the edge where they can see us. My eyes meet my mom’s. The green in hers matches the green in mine. We are more the same than different, more like mother and daughter than not. She blinks, and I watch as a tear courses down her cheek.
Forgiveness is not mundane magic.
It’s not a small thing to change, no matter how old or young you may be.
It’s alchemical—it’s altering to love someone; it gives them so much power over you. I always wanted power over myself, and I thought the only way to have that was to not let her, not letanyone, really love me. I thought that was what it meant to be untamable.
To be a Connelly woman.
But letting someone love you, that’s the real uncharted adventure.
Love is the wildest creature of all.
“Our parents are getting married,” I whisper, pressing my lips to Sydney’s ear.
“Our kids will think we’re so weird.” She leans into my touch.
To me, that’s perfect. I was always the weird girl climbing high up in the trees, and she was the bird in the sky.
The Sun and the Moon. The shadow and the light.
We no longer exist without each other.
One Year Later
Sydney
I remove my sunglasses, handing over my headset to Jodi, the newest, greenest tech at Grand Tours Acadia. She’s young and hungry, which I try not to take advantage of, because I don’t want to get old and lazy. But today I’m in a hurry, and she offered to put my gear away for me. I’m in no position to argue.
“Anything else you need?” she asks, her bright eyes extra eager.
“Just the headset, Connor has the rest—since you’re not flight crew.”
“But I’m training to be,” she says. I raise my hands in surrender.
“Then watch him, I guess.” She moves off in the direction of the plane. I reach out, stopping her with my palm on her shoulder. “After you put away the headset.”
She’s off with a grin. I walk toward the hangar doors, my eyes catching on the azure horizon. I sign out on the log and I’m golden, but even after six months in Acadia working as a tour guide, I never get sick of the views. Those azure ocean skies may not really be blue, but from where I’m standing, it doesn’t matter.
I jog over to my Land Rover, climbing in just as my phone begins to buzz in my back pocket. I yank it out and press the FaceTime button. Cadence pops up on the screen. She’s sweaty, her hair a pile of curls coiled on top of her head. I put the phone into my hands-free holder and shove the car into gear.
“They’re early,” she says, her tone gritty.
