Page 88 of On the Way to You

He didn’t jump, didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge that he’d heard me at all, though I knew he had. It was as if he expected me, or maybe as if he’d imagined me, like I was just a dream. I carefully moved forward, making sure each shoe gripped the slippery rock before I took the next step.

“Emery, you have every right to be angry with me. You should be furious, you shouldhateme,” I said, voice trembling as I closed in, slowly, inch by inch. “I violated your privacy. I asked you to trust me and open up to me when I couldn’t even be patient enough to wait for what I asked for. I don’t have any excuses, not any that are good enough, at least. All I can tell you is that I’m sorry, that I never meant to hurt you, and that when I met you, before I even got in your car, I felt a connection to you that I’ve never felt before in my entire life. It was kismet, it was a soul awakening. It was the first day of my life.”

I swallowed, still watching the muscles of his upper back as they ebbed and flowed with his breath.

“We’ve only spent weeks together, but it feels like a lifetime to me. It feels like every moment before you pulled into that diner parking lot was practice. I practiced breathing, practiced laughing, practiced existing in every moment on the way to you so that when you found me, I’d know how to live.”

I was numb to my own words, to my own emotions as I spoke. I hoped I made sense. I hoped I was reaching him. I hoped he was listening, it was all I needed him to do.

“There’s a reason you asked me to come with you, Emery. Your grandmother led you to that diner, and when you got there, you found me. You may not believe in the universe or God or fate or any of that, but I know you believed in your grandmother, in the way you connected with her. And maybe I’m reaching, maybe I’m reading too much into something I was never meant to be a part of at all, but that’s not how I feel, Emery, and I know that’s not how you feel, either.”

He dropped his head, the only movement he’d given me since I’d first called his name, and I paused, afraid I’d pushed too far, come too close.

“You asked me that first day we met what made me happy,” I reminded him. “And I couldn’t answer. Iwasn’thappy. I was breathing, and that was all. But then I got in your car, and I took my first breath, and Ilived. I saw things I’d never seen before, laughed harder than I knew I could, questioned things I’d believed my entire life and more than anything,” I said, catching my breath. “I fell in love with you. I fell in love with every dark shadow, with every scar, every flaw, every smile and every scowl. Your journal had nothing to do with that. I fell in love withyou.”

I choked out a breath, shaking my head.

“And I know that sounds crazy,” I admitted on a laugh. “Itiscrazy. I’ve only known you for weeks, such a small snapshot of a lifetime but it was enough. And I know you’re tired,” I conceded, the truth digging into my ribs. “I know you’ve been hurt, you’ve been misunderstood, you’ve been poked and prodded and judged. I know you’ve lived on the outside for so long, in a lonely corner of the world where you’ve learned to embrace the silence. You’ve lost and you’ve hurt, and you feel like you’ve failed your family and your friends and everyone you’ve ever touched because you can’t give them the answers to why you feel the way you feel.”

The water rushed furiously below us, churning up energy, my body buzzing to life from the electric feel of it.

“But whether you meant to or not, you let me into that corner, too. And now I’m here, and we’re together, and it’s not so dark and cold but if you leave… if you jump, I’ll still be here. Please, Emery. Don’t leave. Ask me what makes me happy now. Ask me. I’ll tell you over and over and over again that it’s you. It’syou.You are loved, you are understood, and you are needed. I don’t need you to explain why you feel the way you feel because I already know. I have never judged you, and I never will. Please,” I begged again. “Stay. Stay with me.Livewith me.”

My voice was just a whisper at the end, the sound of it mixing with the rush of the water. I’d said all I could say, and yet it somehow didn’t feel like enough. I was suspended in space, waiting, tethered to a man who could jump or pull me into him, and I didn’t know which he’d do.

The water washing over the edge of the canyon was the only sound as Emery turned, his shoes slipping on the rocks a bit before he steadied himself. A piece of me broke inside when his tired, red eyes landed on mine, the irises glossy, corners edged with stress. He took one, small step toward me, nose flaring as his eyes watered more.

“I wasn’t even mad,” he said, his voice low and heavy and tinged with regret. “When I saw you reading my journal, I wasn’t even mad — I was ashamed. I was embarrassed, like I was standing naked in front of a crowd of strangers. Except it was just you, and you weren’t laughing.” He was shaking, every inch of him from shoulders to ankles. “I knew you understood, I knew you loved me, and that scared me more than if you’d pointed and laughed and run away.”

I chewed my bottom lip, eyes welling with his.

“This was always the plan,” he said, exasperated, his hand gesturing to the waterfall behind him before it slapped his thigh in defeat. “I was so sure. I knew peace waited for me here, that I’d finally feel okay, that I’d finally be able to let go. This was supposed to be easy,” he choked. “And it is. It’s the easiest choice. I can jump, right now, and free fall into nothing. I can choose to never wake up to another bad day, or fight to fall asleep with my thoughts haunting me at night, or look into the eyes of everyone I’ve disappointed and have no words of reassurance to offer them. I can choose that, right now.”

A sob broke through me and I shook my head violently, a whisperednounheard under my breath. But then Emery closed the distance between us, his hands flattening against either side of my face, thumbs wiping away the tears.

“Living is hard, it’s the more difficult choice, but I can’tnotchoose it,” he said, his golden eyes sweeping over mine. “My grandmother told me if I took this trip and didn’t find anything that made me feel alive, I could join her, I could choose to leave this world and she would understand. But Ican’t,” he said, brows bending inward as he leveled his eyes with mine. “Because I found you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, a rush of hot tears staining my cheeks. It was too much, the overwhelming storm of emotions I felt in that moment, and when I opened my eyes again and found his, my hands crawled up his waist, gripping his sweater and pulling him into me like he was my first breath. I needed him that much, as much as I needed to breathe, and he was here.

He was alive.

His hands tilted my face up, his lips crashing into mine like he hated me and loved me all at once, like I’d saved him and executed him at the same time. His fingers twisted into my hair, fisting, his mouth consuming every breath I let go on top of that canyon. He bruised my lips and still I begged for more. I wanted all of him, every burning breath, every tortured touch, every whispered curse. The good, the bad, the unthinkable. I wanted all of it,and I took it with that kiss.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I cried against his lips, but he just kissed me with more intention, shaking his head.

“I’m here,” he answered, and I cried harder, gripping him like he would fall at any moment, like touching him was the only way to keep him with me.

I didn’t have any other words, not after all I’d said. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, the three syllables weak and not enough.

“Look at me,” he said, pulling back and lifting my chin. “Even before you got here, I knew. I watched the sun rise over these canyons and I knew it wasn’t the sun rising on my last day, because I wanted more sun rises. With you.” His eyes glistened, his irises searching mine. “I wasn’t going to jump, I wasn’t going to leave you. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like I could.” Emery kissed me softer, thumb tracing my lips when his own were gone. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Something between a laugh and a sob left my lips and he kissed me again, sealing that promise with heat, his arms wrapping all the way around me. The water rushed just as furiously, but I no longer feared it, no longer heard it as the treacherous siren of finality. Instead, it filled me in a slow, steady stream, washing me clean, and I pulled Emery closer, hoping the waves would reach him, too.

It was like every moment between us existed at the top of that waterfall, the memories sweeping in from the canyons and up from the water below. I closed my eyes and saw his wide smile in the driver seat, his hair blowing back. I inhaled a breath and smelled the beached kelp below Esalen, the way it mixed with Emery’s natural scent. When his hands gripped my waist, I saw my hips bare for the first time under his palms, felt him moving between my thighs with gentle care, like it was a privilege and a responsibility both. I heard his laugh, his moans, his desperate pleas for understanding — and I answered them with a kiss, opening my eyes to take him in.

His thumbs brushed my jaw, eyes searching mine, and in that moment, we were alive. We were a boy and a girl, seemingly so opposite yet more alike than we even knew, standing together at the end of a journey neither of us ever saw coming, an adventure we never could have prepared for.

Except it wasn’t the end at all.

It was the first letter, the first word, the first sentence with no punctuation mark in sight. It was a beautiful, messy beginning, an honest truth written in script, in a handwriting with loops and curves only we could decipher.

It was real. It was painful. It was healing.

And most of all, it was ours.

The End