Page 23 of Until Forever Falls

I rub my hands over my thighs, trying to dispel the restless energy. “I don’t know. I just—sometimes I feel like I’m too broken to be anyone’s…anything.”

The car rolls to a stop, the faint thrum of the engine fading. Aaron doesn’t get out right away. He just sits there, drumming his fingers against his knee, like he’s trying to find the right thing to say.

“I don’t think you’re broken, Dylan.” The streetlights outside cast a faint glow across his face, softening the lines of his features. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just want you. You get that don’t you?”

I swallow, my fingers knotting in my lap. “I do.”

“That’s all I want. I don’t want to ruin this time with you. Let’s just enjoy tonight, and when we’re back home, we can talk—if you’re ready.”

I force a smile. I want to argue. I want to tell him that it’s not that simple, that I am broken, but something in the way he says it makes me pause. Makes me reconsider.

I’m still trying to figure out if I’ll ever be ready to let him see the parts of me I’ve hidden away. The thought of going back to New York feels like a countdown, a ticking clock that will eventually hit zero. And when it does, I know the pressure will either break our fragile connection, or strengthen it. Maybe a trip to Rockport is what I need—to finally close the door on old wounds, to take the chance I’ve been avoiding and open up to Aaron.

I reach across the center console and trace the back of his hand with my thumb, a quiet attempt at connection. He doesn’t let go. Instead, he laces our fingers together, squeezing once gently.

“You know what I see?” he muses.

I shake my head, my lips parting to ask, but he beats me to it.

“Lobster rolls. In our very near future. Maybe some fries.Definitelyextra butter.”

A small laughter escapes me, barely there, but enough. I don’t know how much longer I can hold onto this fragile illusion of normalcy, but for now, I’ll let myself pretend. I’m good at that.

Less than a week back in New York, and already, the city feels as though it’s pressing in on me from every angle. I’ve managed to steer clear of nearly every conversation Aaron tries to have about commitment. I feel out of place in my own life. Maine cracked something open inside me, something I can’t seem to shove back down, no matter how hard I try. Leaving Rockport’s unfinished business behind was supposed to bring relief, but all it’s done since seeing Brooks is fester.

He texted once. I stared at the message, reread it more times than I’d admit, but never typed a response. I didn’t know what to say. Or maybe I wasn’t ready to let the past claw its way back in. But in the end, I’ve chosen to go to the reunion—not for anyone else. Just for me. For closure. Because running hasn’t erased anything, so maybe facing it will.

Now, I stand at the gate, my boarding pass almost a foreign object in my hand, like it belongs to someone else. The reality of the trip is starting to sink in, too fast. Anxiety swirls in my stomach, and I look up at Aaron, his face set in concern. He’s waiting for me to say something, to reassure him, but I don’t know how.

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

A pang of doubt prickles at the edge of my thoughts, but I force myself to stand firm. “I need to.” The truth is, I’ve been avoiding the past for too long, and if I ever want to feel whole again, I need to face it. If I don’t, I won’t be able to move forward with anyone.

“If you want, I could come with you?”

I’m sure he already senses my reluctance, but he still needs the words to come from me. I’m not going to have anyone to lean on this time. Beckett can’t come with me. So, I’m going to have to face this reunion alone. “No. I’ll be okay,” I tell him. And even though deep down it doesn’t feel true, I add, “You’ve got your own things to worry about.” I offer him a quick, almost imperceptible smile, hoping it doesn’t appear as weak as it feels.

“I could rearrange things, take off a couple more days from the gallery.”

Aaron’s gallery is more than just a business to him; it’s a reflection of his dedication. I’ve watched him pour everything into it—late nights, early mornings. Our first encounter wasn’t anything extraordinary, just a few chance run-ins on the street. The city seemed to conspire to bring us together. Then one night, he asked me to grab a drink, and somehow, without either of us planning it, we’ve barely been apart since.

“You’d really blow off work for something as silly as my high school reunion?”

“For you? Yes. Absolutely.” He beams, his eyes gentle and I can tell he means it.

“That’s sweet of you, but really…I’ll manage. You don’t need to.”

Aaron’s breath hitches, and for a moment, he stands motionless, as though he’s collecting his thoughts. His fingers graze the back of my neck, tracing the line of my spine before they anchor around me, pulling me close. “Just promise me you’ll let me know when you get there,” he murmurs, a quiet insistence underlining his words.

“I promise.”

I hope he understands I’m doing this for us too—a way to clear out everything that remains trapped between the past and my future. He presses a soft kiss to the top of my head, and I squeeze his hand a little tighter before pulling away and heading down the boarding ramp.

Once the seatbelt is secured, I settle back, feeling the slight jolt of the plane rolling to the runway. I tap Beckett’s name, the call connecting before the first ring is even done. His voicemail picks up, over the top and silly as always. I let the sound of it wash over me, his voice a brief escape from the white noise of the flight.

“Hey, KitKat, it’s me. I’m en route back to Rockport. I don’t know why I’m going back. I honestly might be spiraling a little bit, and I could really use someone to talk to right now. I–I’m nervous, Beckett. I miss you. And you know, this would be a hell of a lot easier if you were here with me. Anyway, the plane’s about to take off, so I’ll have to cut this short. I love you. Bye.”

I hang up the phone, but the sting of emotion is still there, creeping up my throat. Facing the window, I try to focus on the horizon, searching for anything to convince me this trip won’t end in disaster.

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