Page 70 of Secret Nights and Northern Lights
As I stare out at the midnight sky, I notice an oddly shapedcloud. Feathery and stretched thin, like pulled-apart cotton running perpendicular to the horizon. Even more odd, it appears to shift and stretch longer as I watch, growing thicker in places and fading from view in others.
On a hunch, I run back to the counter and retrieve my phone, swiping open the aurora app with my thumb.
“What’s up?” Ben asks as I frantically tap at my screen.
“There’s a weird cloud in the sky.” Ten percent chance of visibility according to the app, but not for another hour. Still…
Going off pure instinct, I take my phone back to the glass door and slide it open. Frigid air sweeps in with the breeze, but I don’t pay attention to the cold because adrenaline begins to pulse through my veins. I switch from the aurora app to the camera and hold my phone skyward, gasping when the cottony cloud appears as a long stretch of neon green down the center of my screen.
Oh my god! This might be it!
“Ben!” I shout. “You need to come here! Now!”
He’s behind me in seconds, and I watch over my shoulder as he peers at my phone screen and his eyes go wide. “Holy shit.”
Then he’s gone again, rummaging through his camera bag at the counter and frantically pulling out equipment. I follow him back inside and throw on my coat and slip my feet into my sneakers, my hands shaking as I attempt to tie them before I give up and run back to the deck with my laces flapping against the floor, afraid I’ll miss the show.
Outside, Ben’s hands hurriedly work to get his tripod set up.
“You good?” he asks, without looking up. I know he’s askingbecause it’s completely dark out here, and with his tripod set up in record speed, he moves to shut off the interior lights so they don’t interfere with his photos.
“I’m good,” I promise.
He leans back through the doorway and flips off the lights in the condo, plunging us into darkness.
When I look up at the sky, the thin cloud from before is gone, but now there’s a new one running horizontally over the horizon, splitting the sky in two above the city of Akureyri.
“Come here.” Ben motions me over with a hand while keeping his eyes on the display screen in front of him.
He steps aside so I can glimpse the screen, and when I see his photo of aurora—neon green stretched above the golden lights of the city, the scene reflected upon the inky waters of the fjord like a mirror—something deep-seated shakes loose in my core.
I’m here. In Iceland. Living a life I’ve always dreamed of. And I’m living this dream with Ben, who Ilove.
In this moment, I know. I can forgive him.
Whatever happened back then was between two teenagers, but we’re fully grown adults now. I still may not have a clear way out of this scenario where I get to keep the job of my dreamsandBen, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe this moment is the best life can possibly get, and maybe I need to quit goddamn thinking and enjoy it while it lasts.
“Ben.” I press a hand over my heart. “It’s incredible. I have no other words. You’re fucking amazing.”
He smiles, something unspoken passing between us in the still night.
Over the next half hour, aurora dazzles us with a show. The lights grow stronger and become visible to the eye without a camera, and Ben and I are like excited children again, turning circles and searching the heavens above. At one point, the lights are so vivid they consume the whole sky, greens and pinks dancing a waltz above our heads, a wavy mirage of moving color. It’s so fantastically thrilling it’s almost scary. The basic facts of human life,the grass is green, the sky is blue, flipped upside down in an instant. The sky doesn’t look real anymore. Nothing feels real anymore.
“Ems, let’s take a picture.”
I join Ben in front of his tripod, where he pulls me into his arms. Instead of posing for the camera, he leans in and presses his lips to mine in a soft, slow kiss. I hear the click of the shutter, and I don’t need to see the photo to know it will be the most meaningful one ever taken of me.
When Ben pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been quiet today.”
My heart lurches. Surely he isn’t about to ruin the best moment of my life by turning it into the worst. Then again, he’s done that very thing before. “Are you regretting last night?” I bring myself to ask. “Did we go too fast?”
His head jerks back, eyes urgently sweeping my face. “God no! Is that what you’re thinking? Christ, Ems. I wouldneverregret what happened between us. Ever.” He plants a hard kiss to my forehead. “But I need to tell you something. I’m just nervous.”
I don’t know whether to be relieved by his actions or fearfulof whatever he has to say, so I choose the path of least resistance and lean into my anxiety. “Tell me what you’re thinking. Please? You’re scaring me.”
“You’re the one who’s good with words, not me. Maybe I can show you better than I can tell you.”
Ben picks up his tripod and camera with one hand and pulls me toward the door with his other. Back inside, he flips on the lights and leaves me standing in the living room while he sets his tripod down and goes off to rummage through a side pocket on his camera bag.
