Page 84 of Until Forever Falls

He dips his head in agreement. “It gave me a reason to lookforwardagain. It wasn’t about making up for the past, or trying to prove something to anyone. It was about creating something meaningful. Something that could stand, no matter what else fell apart.”

The steady conviction in his voice pulls at me, as if he’s taken everything life has thrown at him and chose resilience over surrender. The Brooks I thought had faded into memory is still here—changed, tempered by time, but unmistakably the same. It’s unsettling and steadying all at once, something that echoes the fight still burning in me. It’s a collision of our past and present, a strange reassurance that even though we’ve been running parallel for years, we’ve finally found our way back.

Wordlessly, my fingers slip into his, the pulse beneath his skin proof that despite whatever was broken between us, we’re still here. Simply beginning a new chapter.

A barely-there kiss lingers on my temple, as I return to my room, the distant rush of the ocean fading behind me. Leaving only the quiet and the remaining letters on my nightstand. I pick up mine first, fingers gently tracing the seal. The fear of what’s inside has dulled—replaced with something closer to understanding. Or perhaps I’ve learned that courage doesn’t come from having all the answers, but from daring to face the questions.

Dylan’s Letter

Dylan,

First off—holy crap, we actually made it. High school. Done! Wild, right?

I don’t know where you’re reading this, but I hope it’s somewhere good. A place that feels like yours. Because if you’re anything like me right now, you need it.

I won’t lie. I wasn’t exactly excited to write this. The wholeletter to your future selfthing felt weird, but maybe one day it’ll mean something? Hopefully, it’ll at least remind you how far we’ve come, and that we’ve survived.

Do you remember all those nights before moving to Rockport when we couldn’t sleep? How we’d lie there, staring at the ceiling, planning our escape like it was the only way we’d ever really start living? It felt like our only choice back then. Like if we didn’t run, we’d get stuck watching mom drown herself in everything she could get her hands on, and probably end up just like her. Miserable. But somehow, we landed in Rockport, and to be honest, it doesn’t feel as temporary as I thought it would.

Of course, there’s Brooks. Yeah, yeah, I hate to say it, but he’s probably the biggest reason. He talks about working for his dad’s construction company like it’s set in stone. His whole life has already been laid out for him. But I can see it—the part of him that wants something else but won’t say it out loud. That’s what finally made me stop and ask myself what I really want. Maybe art isn’t just a hobby. Maybe I don’t have to put miles between me and Mom to figure out who I am.

And Beckett. God, Becks. He’s actually happy here, like really happy. For so long, it felt like it was just us against the world, always waiting for the next disaster. But now? He’s found his people—not just teammates he shares the field with, butrealfriends who get him. A life outside all the crap we went through. A future.

But here’s the thing. Becks still thinks the plan is to leave this place, leave mom behind after graduation, like we always talked about. But the more I see him here, the more I think maybe he doesn’t need to go. Maybe this is what we’ve been looking for all along. I just need to figure out how to bring it up without totally blindsiding him.

And maybe I’m starting to see things differently for myself, too. I get it—we’ve always kept our walls up. It felt safer that way, like if no one could see the mess, then no one could hurt us. But not everyone’s out to tear us down. Some people actually show up for you, and they prove they’re worth the risk.

So, listen—don’t forget about yourself is all I’m saying. I know we’ve spent so much time worrying about Beckett and Mom, but we matter, too. You matter. Your dreams? They’re worth something. I hope you travel, paint the world, and do whatever you want ten years from now too. Stop waiting for some perfect moment to start living your life. Just go for it. Whatever’s next, you’ll figure it out.

So…did we do it? Did we finally get to Paris?

Are we still in Rockport, or did we end up somewhere else?

What about Becks? Did he stick around, or did he chase something bigger?

Did Mom ever get better?

And Brooks…is he still in our life? I hope he’s happy. And if he’s not, I hope at least we are.

Love, Dylan

30

Brooks

Now

Dylan’s fingers pass over mine, a brief, unsteady brush, like the wind pulling at the edges of a torn flag. It doesn’t tie us together. But it doesn’t let us go either.

The night didn’t originally go as planned. It cracked me open in that parking lot, scraped at old wounds, and still, I can’t call it anything but right. We let the past sit between us on that beach, let it have its say, and in the end, we were still standing. She’s staying. Maybe not for me, but for Blake.

And yet, it still feels like a prayer answered, like something in the universe finally shifted in my favor, just a little.

Because Blake—God, she’s so much like them. I’ve kept up with her over the years, always felt like she was family, even when Dylan wasn’t around. She has Dylan’s drive, that all-consuming need to create, to throw herself into something bigger than her. And Becks…she’s got his heart. His optimism. That belief that things will work out, that love is worth the risk.

I don’t know when Dylan will meet her. If she’s even ready to. But I know, when she does, she’s going to love Blake the way she loves Beckett, the way she loves anyone that truly matters. Because that’s just who she is.

The morning is creeping in, stretching long shadows across the pavement as I sit behind the wheel. I kissed the side of her head before I left, a restrained goodbye when everything in me wanted to never leave. Walking away felt wrong. But driving away? That feels worse.

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