Page 90 of Was I Ever Free

Lucy came to visit as much as she was allowed, which was once a week. Since I had so much time on my hands, I took the opportunity to read books on woodworking and carpentry. Because although I told Lucy Iwouldbuild her a house, I didn’t actually know how. I did plan to hire a contractor to oversee it, but I still wanted some kind of active involvement. Now that Lucy and I were officially together, I needed her to be as close as possible,wheneverpossible. And having two separate apartments in the city wasn’t going to cut it. I started the process of getting permits and land as soon as I was out of that fucking place.

Ten months later, the bungalow is ready and we’ve moved in. My last surprise was to paint the front door baby blue. Lucy burst into tears when she first noticed it, and then jumped into my arms, kissing me like we were back in Texas, on top of a Ferris wheel.

That was over a week ago.

I’m making coffee when Lucy walks into the kitchen, what has become our routine a week into living here.

“Morning,” she sings-songs, padding up to me and pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. I add some sugar to her mug, before turning around and handing it to her.

“Morning, Baby Blue,” I say with a smile, kissing her softly on the lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Amazing,” she says with a sleepy grin, taking a slow sip of her coffee. “I’ll never tire of hearing the sound of the ocean as I fall asleep.”

I’ll never tire of you.

I let that thought float in my mind while I watch her settle into the breakfast nook, the large kitchen window overlooking the water. All she has on is my old band shirt, looking even more faded now that she sleeps in it every night. Still, a year later, I can’t believe she’s mine. I must have done something right in a past life to have Lucy love me in this one. I watch her in silence for a few seconds longer before pushing off the counter.

“I have something for you,” I tell her with a wink. “Wait here.”

I catch her curious look before I exit and head for my office down the hall. Finding the small box I hid there, I head back into the kitchen, feeling slightly nervous.

“For me?” Her face beams as she takes the cardboard box out of my hands.

I shrug, downplaying it. “A housewarming gift of sorts,” I mutter as I stand awkwardly next to the table while she opens it. “It’s stupid really.”

“Don’t say that,” she says offhandedly but then her breath catches in her throat. “Bastian… is that… did you…” She can’t seem to find the words, looking up at me teary-eyed.

“Well, if I knew it was going to make you cry like the door—”

Lucy cuts me off, standing up. “These are happy tears, you idiot,” she sniffles while jumping into my arms, peppering me with kisses, followed by a gleeful squeal before jumping back down. “I love them,” she says willfully.

She picks the box up and skips to the fridge. Finally, she starts pulling magnets out one by one, each of them representing a different city or town that we drove through during our road trip. I began collecting them even before we started our little sex deal. It was like a compulsion, any time I saw one I just had to buy it, not understanding why butknowingsomeday I’d give them to Lucy as a souvenir. I never expected for them to end up here—inside the house we share together.

But here we are.

Living inside a dream I could have never dared to conjure up in the first place.

Then it hits me.

Or maybe the inexplicable feeling could be better described as—then something leaves me. I think I was speaking but must have stopped mid-sentence, because Lucy’s eyebrows dip in worry, stepping toward me.

“Are you okay?” she says.

I blink, shaking my head as if trying to snap out of it, and clear my throat before answering, “Yeah, I just…” But I let the thought trail off because the room feels like it’s expanding around me, then an odd pulse, like the house is taking in a long inhale until finally, everything snaps back to normal. It’s then I realize that I’ve been in this… thismomentbefore.

The smell of fresh paint and sawdust.

“Bastian?” Lucy coaxes.

My gaze falls back to hers, realizing I must look like I’ve seen a ghost. Can I even call it a ghost when it’s the future that’s been haunting me this whole time?

“I think we’ve passed it,” I say, knowing I must sound unintentionally vague.

As expected, Lucy questions me. “Past what?”

“The future I told you about.”

“Oh,” Lucy says, a little surprised, finally connecting the dots. She pauses, looking around, and then adds, “This is the last thing you saw?”

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