Page 153 of Missed Sunrise
“A neon-green stun gun. From your mother.”
He laughed until he cried freely again, and I held him through it until the energy for him to do anything was depleted.
He wrapped his arms around me then and rested his full weight against me, laying his cheek on my shoulder and turning his head toward the water.
Just as the sun began to set.
We watched it go, taking this painful day with it.
And, for some reason, I sent a vow with it to never go back for the notebook I’d left in Gulf Shores.
I didn’t need it. Not anymore.
I remembered every question I ever wanted answered, and my plans now became his plans. My dreams, his dreams.
The rush for greatness and achievement waned.
I held Liem Lott in my arms, and when the sun rose, we would be together to see it.
He would still love me then, as he did now.
And that wasn’t just enough.
It was everything.
EPILOGUE
Cody
Seasons changedand time carried on, slowly on some days and rapidly on others.
Spring had been coated in grief, and I measured its passage not by how the minutes of sunlight lengthened, but by how frequently Liem’s smiles met his eyes. How many times he approached a new canvas or one of his sketchbooks only to put them back down again.
It was many long weeks before he touched his art again, and I’d never forget that morning when he’d squirmed out from under the covers, kissed my cheek, and left for the gazebo with his sketch pad under his arm.
It’d been the first day of summer.
I’d given him a five-minute head start—well, more like a generous three—before stuffing my feet into my running shoes, stretching outside the cottage’s front door, and falling into an easy jog. I gave him space, but if my circuit cut near enough to check on him every few minutes, I had no control over that.
So I told myself.
No one was left unchanged by the past year on the Coast, especially since the previous summer, when the Lott family had moved to the Coast just as I prepared to leave it. But no matter how many smiles Liem offered or how full they were or weren’t, my love for him and his entire being grew impossibly deeper. With every breath we shared, each depth discovered, and the new answers I found to questions about him, his dreams, his life… I fell harder.
And I found more of myself too.
More of me to love, more capacity for giving love. And receiving it.
Summer had been wonderful in its simplicity.
I lifeguarded, edged closer to Mordor with Dad, took my classes, and spent my nights and mornings surrounded by a warm body that smelled like charcoal, sunshine, and the fresh, salty air of home.
Summer also brought one of the most brutal hurricane seasons the Coast had seen in years. One hurricane in particular—Hurricane Holly—made the biggest impact. We joked now that its landfall was personally responsible for the new silver hairs that showed at Vinh’s temples.
Everything had turned out okay, but hauling the houseboat inland, boarding up the cottage and the Lott’s house, and preparing to evacuate had been an experience, but we’d done it.
Packing my essentials had been easy. All I needed these days was one fireproof box and one dazzling man. After spending more and more time with Vinh, my faith that he would take care of my best friend better than anyone was rock solid.
Bree and I would always have each other, but now it was by choice and not just survival.
