Page 151 of Aria

“You have no right to decide what my son and I deserve. You were selfish.”

My eyes rounded, my skin growing hot from his accusation. “I was anythingbutselfish,” I argued. “The pain nearlykilledme. I gave up the greatest thing in my life to protect yours. You would have drowned, Noah. You might not see it, but I do. Look at everything that had happened up to that point—your broken friendship with Devon, your departure from the band, your tarnished media image… your life almost taken from you!” I stopped to catch my breath, my chest heaving with heated conviction. “Now, look around you. You have a beautiful wife and three amazing children. You have a thriving solo career. You’rehappy. You’re successful,” I told him. “Don’t you see? Don’t you understand?”

Noah faltered for a moment to process my words before taking a long stride toward me. He reached out his hands and cupped my face, grazing his thumbs over my jaw. “I loved the hell out of you,” he said. “That was enough for me.”

I stared at him in awe.

And then I crumbled.

Unrelenting sobs poured out of me as Noah pulled me to him, crushing me to his chest. He hugged me fiercely, one arm around my back, his opposite hand knotted in my hair. I cried in his arms, my body shaking with years of stored-up grief and still-open wounds. “I’m so sorry,” I said, weeping into the crook of his shoulder as I clutched him. His t-shirt was balled-up between my fists, and I could feel his heart drumming its heavy beats beneath his ribcage.

I felt closer to him than ever before. My mind wasn’t racing with toxic thoughts. I wasn’t worrying about hurting him. I wasn’t overwrought with the stress of what could go wrong, and I wasn’t overanalyzing every aspect of our relationship.

I was simply releasing.

Healing.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Noah whispered, his tone softening with concession. He rested his cheek against the top of my head while his fingers stroked my hair. “It’s okay.”

We stood in the alleyway, clinging to each other for a long time, and when I pulled back, I gazed up at him with a sense of absolution. “I’ll always love you, Noah. I’ll always be rooting for you. But… I have no regrets. I see you now, so happy and fulfilled, and it would be impossible to regret the man standing in front of me.”

Noah moved his hands to my neck and pulled me in one more time, placing a tender kiss against my forehead. “I’m rooting for you, too.”

We held each other a while longer, old memories passing through us both, the hum of the streetlamp the background music for our dance of reprieve.

And when the chill of the autumn night got the better of us, we headed back into the pub for one last drink together. We sipped on whiskey and shared stories of our abundant lives. Noah spoke of Beth with the same sparkle in his eyes that had once been reserved for me. It made my heart clench with grief, but it also soothed me in a way. It solidified what I had known all along—I had done the right thing.

When last-call was announced, we finished our stories and whiskey and exited the pub.

As we stood in that familiar and painful spot on the sidewalk, we made new memories there. A memory of goodbye.

Arealgoodbye—the one I had taken from Noah all those years ago.

I hugged him tight, burning the scent of his skin into the marrow of my bones. This was the end of our song. This was our final note.

But the beautiful thing about songs was that they never really died. Months, years, even decades would go by, and that song would still play.

Songs were never lost; they were never truly over.

A song lived on forever.

EPILOGUE

NOAH

Istepped through my front door, dropping my keys to the entry table. They clinked against the glass surface, and I hoped I hadn’t woken Beth or the boys.

The house was dark and quiet as I descended the staircase, my footsteps as heavy as my heart. New photos adorned the walls, a constant reminder of the beautiful life I had made for myself. As I traipsed into the bedroom with tired feet, I used the flashlight on my phone to light my path. Beth lied curled up in our bed, wrapped tightly in the sheets and blankets, and I couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful she looked.

Peeling off my jacket, my eyes were drawn to the small drawer of my nightstand. I hesitated before approaching the side of the bed and sitting down, feeling the mattress sink beneath my weight.

I carefully opened the drawer, glancing at Beth as the hinges creaked in the quiet room. She stirred for a moment, then fell still.

Reaching inside the bedside drawer, I pulled out a familiar piece of green construction paper. I pressed it between my fingertips, memorizing the feel of its coarse and pulpy texture.

Then I turned my cell phone toward the paper and watched it light up. My breath hitched as my eyes read over the words that had stolen a piece of my heart many years ago.

Dear Noah,

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