Page 133 of Resurrection
The view unfolds below us, a sea of orange and gold and green and gray. We float, suspended in a world of our own. At some point, Naomi leans against the basket and looks over the side, her eyes filled with wonder as she stares down at the land.
Me?
I can’t take my gaze off her.
"Look," I say, pointing out the collection of colorful boxes to the right. "There’s Sageview Ridge downtown. And over there?—"
"The wind farm!" she shouts, breathless, gesturing at the group of windmills gathered at the bottom of the mountain.
"Looks so different from up here."
"It does." Her hand brushes mine, tentative, as if she’s afraid this is all too fragile. "Everything’s so…small."
"Not us," I reply, watching her.
The sun dips lower, setting the mountains on fire, painting the sky with every color we ever dreamed of. It feels like a second chance, a clean slate. She glances at me, and I see the question in her eyes, the doubt she can’t quite hide.
"Naomi," I say, needing to tell her. "I couldn’t give you any of this before. But I can now. I can take care of you."
Her lips part. "Ty…"
I shift closer, my hand finding hers, holding on tight. "I know what I want this time."
"You mean it?" Her voice is soft, like she’s afraid to let herself believe.
"Remember how you once said that your people don’t move because they’ve lived and died on this land for centuries?"
She nods, her eyes watery all of a sudden.
"All those places from your past…New York, Paris, Miami, Rome… They don’t matter because they’re not home. This, here, is home, and I want to give it to you." I practiced this speech for days, but now that I’m saying it, it seems like all the wrong words come out.
There’s a long pause, and she sets the drink back down and rises to her feet. She's turned away from me to the horizon, staring down at the valley floating by below, the colors of the land melting into one another.
"Nomes?" I call softly, unsure of what she’s thinking. But then I realize she’s not looking at me because she doesn’t want me to see those tears she quietly wipes away from her cheeks.
"I’m scared, Ty," she says over the roar of the fire in the burner.
"You don’t have to be. I’ve got you." I set my own drink down and move to stand right behind her and wrap my arms around her, pressing my body up to hers.
"It’s not just us," she explains. "It’s the constant scrutiny we’ll be under. The scrutiny that can ruin us all over again."
"I could just fade away…" I whisper. "I could just stop being that guy. In a year, no one will remember my name." The prospect of being nobody for her is tempting. And I think—no, I’m positive—I can do it. I can say no to the things that have been my life these past seventeen years. I can say no to the career in music. It never allowed me to write my own material anyway. I’m writing here and now with her by my side.
Naomi draws a deep breath, like she’s about to say something, but it never happens.
The moment wraps around us, gentle and full of foreshadowing. The air is crisp, the world beneath us blurring into what-comes-next. Her head rests on my chest, and I feel it all—the love, the fear, the leap of faith we’re taking together.
I breathe in, letting the hope fill me. It’s more than I dared wish for. More than I thought we’d get. We’re floating, flying, rising above everything that once held us back.
"Promise you won’t mess it up, Ty," she says.
"Promise."
"And by the way, I’m impressed."
"Well, the night’s just getting started, baby," I whisper in her ear.
The ride comes to an end just as the sun teeters on the edge of the mountains, ready to dip below them. We're back on solid ground, our hair wild and tousled from the wind, my head slightly swimming from the champagne we downed while floating through the sky.
