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“I thought we could start with this,” I said.
“Did you…” Ciaran’s eyes watered. “Did you order this, for me?”
“I did. For us. I ordered the whole series so we could read it to each other.” Ciaran tried to blink back tears that refused to be held back. “By reading it, I hope to learn why the story means so much to you.”
“Why?” He could barely talk. Tears streaked his face.
“You’ve loved this series since you were six years old.” I tried to shrug but it wasn’t convincing, not with the tears now falling down my cheeks. “Seemed like a good way to be closer to you…to get to know the version of you before I met you.”
“Jesus fuck, Matty,” Ciaran sniffed as he crawled up the bed to sit beside me. “This is like, the best gift ever. Better than sex. Like, for my entire life, nothing will ever top this.”
I wiped away his tears with my thumb. I wanted to argue about the sex part, because sex with Ciaran was off the charts, but I knew what he meant.
“I dunno,” I said, taking his hands. I kissed each of his fingers. “Maybe one day you’ll read your novel to me. That’d be pretty great, right?”
Ciaran pressed his lips to mine. They were salty and wet with his tears.
“I can’t wait to do that,” he said. “I just have to finish the damn thing.”
“And you will, babe. One page at a time.”
He kissed me again, his lips forming into a smile as he pulled back. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I handed him the book. He looked at the cover like it was priceless, his finger tracing the title, The Haunting Moors of Silver Lake. “You read first.”
Ciaran opened the cover and nearly fell apart after seeing that his favorite author had inscribed an encouraging message to him. “To Ciaran Galbraith, a future bestselling author… ~Emily Alsobrooks.”
“How? When?” he sputtered.
“I have my ways,” was all I offered. “I’m ready to be dazzled by Ms. Alsobrooks.”
Grinning, Ciaran flipped to page one and began reading. “Prologue: When the Wise Owl Priestess Persephone first met the brash young Baron Barry Claymourn, he was eight summers old and he was swimming buck naked in the holy waters of Silver Lake…”
As the man I loved read on, Ciaran revealed his soul to me one page at a time.
And what did I do?
I listened very carefully, every night, for the rest of my life.
EPILOGUE
FIVE YEARS LATER
CIARAN
I dare you, Matty had texted a few moments ago as I got ready for my graduation ceremony.
He was at the airport to pick up Dante, who was not only coming to my ceremony, but was moving back to the States after relinquishing his role in Singapore.
We weren’t sure what had happened, but it must have been significant because last week Dante scheduled a FaceTime with the family to inform us he was coming home for the foreseeable future. And that we weren’t allowed to ask for specifics or to pry into his decision.
Of course, Mom and Stefon planned to honor that.
But not Matty. Which was why he was at the airport, hanging with Davies, waiting for Dante to land, and not pestering me in person as I got dressed.
Matty didn’t wait for me to reply, because his next text was that of a peach and eggplant emoji with the words, Look inside the gift bag on your side of the closet.
You’re a dork, I typed back.
