Fortuity (Transcend 3)

“Where are you?”

“Gabe?” I glance at my watch. “Shoot! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’m leaving right now.”

I fly out the door to pick him up. He doesn’t seem too bothered by my mistake. And just to make things right, I suggest we pick up pizza on the way home—my intentions not entirely selfless. As soon as we get home, I grab a slice of pizza, a can of lemon lime sparkling water from the fridge, and leave Gabe and Mr. Hans to eat the rest of the pizza and finish their chess game.

I read Transcend, only taking two bites of pizza. At some point, Gabe knocks on my bedroom door and tells me goodnight. By three a.m., I drift off to sleep with the final page pressed to my chest.

Spoiler alert: it ends with Morgan taking flowers to Jenna’s grave, kissing the top of her headstone, and whispering, “I’m home, Mom.”

Nate chronicles his time with Morgan Daisy, including her death. How he met and fell in love with Jenna, the pivotal year after her death with baby Morgan and Swayze—the young nanny who knew everything about him. Part Two of the book is like a travel journal with dates and destinations—things that impacted them the most, the people they met along the way, and what he calls his Unknown Journey to Elvis. The chapter where we meet is titled Fortuity.

Transcend is everything. I laughed. I cried … actually sobbed. The words are real; the emotions are raw. The ending … is perfect.

This realization leads me to reply to him with a simple note on a piece of cream stationary. With a green marker, I write:

Thank you.

It’s an honor to be loved by you.

Always,

G

I fold the note in half and slide it into an envelope.

Over the next couple of weeks leading to Christmas, I hear Gabe and Morgan chatting a lot, but I don’t ask to say hi or see Nate.

When he left, I thought fate might bring us back together. It seemed like the right thing. After reading his manuscript, I don’t know. The ending was bittersweet, beautiful, and … perfect.

Maybe not everything in life dies with a final breath.

Maybe some things just … end.

Maybe it’s not forever.

Maybe it’s for now.

Letting go doesn’t hurt as much as the fear of letting go. I wore a bracelet around my wrist for over twenty years because I feared letting go. It ruined every relationship after Brandon.

When I was ready to let it go … I let the fear go too. And now I don’t feel the pain. I feel free. The love is still there; it’s just not the kind of love that hurts anymore.

If I hold on to Nate, the pain will cripple me. Hope shouldn’t shackle the heart; it should free it. Right now, I want him so badly, the fear of never seeing him again feels like I’m starting the Brandon grieving for a second time.

We go to Montana for Christmas. I pour my heart into my family.

“You look good,” my mom says. “I don’t know if it’s the longer hair … or you going back to your natural auburn color …” She twists her lips. “No, it’s something else. You just have a glow to you.”

I grin.

Her gaze falls to my wrist. “You let Brandon go.” A sad smile graces her face.

Months ago, my hand would have gone to my wrist, needing that security of the bracelet. Not now. I slide my hands into my back pockets. “I let go of false hope.”

Her eyes narrow a bit. After a few seconds, she nods. “You let go of Nathaniel too?”

I nod, blowing out a long breath. The pain is still there. It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid; the sting lingers for a few seconds. “Missing people hurts too fucking much.”

Her eyebrows jump up her forehead. I don’t usually use that kind of language in front of her, but it’s exactly how I feel. I guess I want her to not simply understand me; I want her to feel me. To steal from Nate: Then she’ll know …

*

Over the next six months, Morgan sends me three letters. I respond to all of them. I continue to follow her on social media, but I don’t focus on the pictures she posts with Nate. He sent me a letter right after New Year’s. I didn’t open it. I just … couldn’t.

It’s been six months since we’ve had written contact, seven months since I’ve talked to him, and almost eleven months since I’ve touched him.

We died without a last breath.

With no one to blame.

Just … life.

*

“I’m going to miss you.”

Gabe gives me a half grin. “Going to miss you too.” He hugs me.

I don’t know how much Kyle and Emily hugged Gabe. I want to believe it was often. Over the past year together, I’ve hugged him more and more each day. And every day he hugs me back a little more. Now, he squeezes me so hard I feel it in my bones.