Hello, Goodbye, and Everything in Between

But there’s nothing: just a sweep of water as flat and black as a chalkboard, and another far-off growl of thunder. She thinks once more about Aidan’s words, which are still jangling around in her head, and then she makes a decision.

Before she can begin to overthink it, she kicks off her sandals and takes a step forward. When the first wave rushes over her feet, she stiffens, stunned by the icy temperature, newly frightened at the thought of Aidan having already been out there so long. But she knows if she’s going to do this, she has to keep moving, so she plunges ahead, her teeth chattering as the water rises to her calves and then her knees and then finally the bottom of her dress, which drags behind her as she pushes forward.

Just before diving in, she takes a big gulp of air, trying to prepare herself. But still, the cold comes as a shock: frigid and bracing and more powerful than she could have imagined. Her numb legs instantly begin churning of their own accord, and her hands move through the water by instinct. As she starts to swim, her body begins to adjust: the goose bumps subsiding, her limbs growing looser as she propels herself through the water, unable to see where she’s going.

But she doesn’t notice any of that.

All she cares about is reaching Aidan.

She’s not sure how long she’s been swimming, night-blind and cold and disoriented, when she pauses to lift her head, gasping for breath. She finds the blinking light of the buoy and scans the water for Aidan, and when she spots him there in the distance—a flash of white, inching slowly toward the shore—she goes weak with relief. She throws her head back and lets out a laugh, the sound of it bright and tinny in the dark.

“Aidan,” she yells, and he lifts his head as he catches sight of her. He calls out something in return, but the words are lost to the wind, and then he’s swimming toward her once more, paddling doggedly in her direction, and with a shiver, she starts moving again, too.

They’re not far apart now, maybe half the length of a football field, and in the light of the moon, she can see him stop every few strokes to wave at her, bobbing up and down like some sort of damaged buoy.

This time, when he calls out her name, she can finally hear him.

“Hi,” she yells back, and he spins around to point at something behind him.

“Did you see?”

“I can’t see anything!”

“I did it,” he says breathlessly, splashing over to her. “I actually did it.”

When he’s near enough, Clare reaches out and loops her arms around him, and she can feel his muscles go limp. But he holds on to her waist, and they stay there like that for a long time, both of them too winded to talk as they cling to each other, their legs still moving frantically beneath the surface.

“I love you,” she says softly, and he leans back to look at her. There’s a drop of water hanging from his nose, and his lips look bluish, even in the dark.

“What was that?” he asks with a grin. “I think I might have a little water in my ear. Did you say you dove me?”

She shakes her head, gripping him a little harder. “I love you,” she says again, and as she does, a wave catches them, sending them floating up for a second before dipping them back down again, and it feels like a roller coaster, like a bump in the road, the kind that sends your heart up into your throat, the kind that sets you flying.

Aidan kisses her then, and it’s cold and wet and shivery, but there’s also a heat to it that warms her from the inside out. “I love you, too.”

She can feel him shaking all over now, and she realizes she’s doing the same.

“We should get you back,” she tells him, but he only tightens his hold on her.

“Not yet,” he says quietly. “Just a few more seconds.”

Clare doesn’t argue.

She’s not ready to let go yet, either.





The Gallaghers’ House (Again)


4:48 AM