You were my inspiration.
I love you.
Jonah
I hang my head as the sobs hit me. As the words my brother wrote crack every last chain of guilt I’ve grown so damn used to wearing.
It’s just like him to know what I need to hear.
It’s just like him to know that I’m struggling with how to move on in a world without him, and how to throw me a lifeline.
It’s just like him to have one final say so there’s no doubt in my mind how he felt about me.
In time, I know the ache will go away and the sadness will fall dormant, but fuck if it’s not going to always hurt.
I let the tears fall, and when they subside, when I’m all cried out, I lift that crappy beer and take a swig.
My laughter is unexpected, but I can’t help but remember him here that last summer before his accident. How crazy and carefree he was. How much we laughed. How much we loved.
I take the small container sitting beside me that holds my portion of his ashes and slowly pour them into the lake.
I give him what he wanted that day.
To be here when he dies.
To have the sun and the water and the memories.
I’m not sure how long I sit here, but I know she’s here. I know she’s been sitting here this whole time, giving me my space to grieve how I need to, giving me the time to figure this out.
But when I’m finally ready to go, when I get to my feet and turn around, I’m so very grateful to see her here. The blonde hair flying from the breeze and the compassion in her smile.
I know I’m leaving my brother here today, but I’m so very grateful to be walking toward her when I do. And I plan on carrying out my brother’s final instructions.
I’ll live.
For me.
Without regret.
EPILOGUE—2
DEKKER
1 year later
EXCITEMENT FILLS THE AIR.
I take it all in. The people milling around. The clusters of people sitting in the stands. The special staging area for kids to lose their wheelchairs and gain their sleds so they can skate. The staff in their bright blue shirts helping anyone and everyone who needs assistance.
And then I see him.
Hunter’s standing on the far side of the rink. He’s in the parking zone—a spot he created where parents park their kids’ wheelchairs and then walk away to the stands. It’s where kids can feel like kids. Where they can be entertained by clowns or talk hockey or anything really and have some autonomy. His grin is wide as he sits on his haunches talking to a little girl.
Everything I love about him can be summed up in this one moment—his passion, his drive, his kindness, his love, and his devotion.
The past year has been a hard one for him and so to see this—him—this alive as he immortalizes his brother’s memory, is so heartwarming.
Someone comes over and taps him on the shoulder and hands him a microphone. The opening ceremony is about to start.
People hoot and holler as he walks out onto the rolled-out mat to center ice. My father’s whistle being one of the loudest.
“Thank you for coming today,” Hunter says and clears his throat. “What started as a dream of mine about eighteen months ago is now, today, officially a reality. The Jonah Maddox Hockey Facility is now officially open.”
Applause fills the arena, but it’s Hunter’s eyes that find mine. There’s a soft smile on his lips, and I’m sure I’m the only one who notices the tears welling in his eyes.
“This arena is for you. It doesn’t matter what abilities you do or don’t have, all that matters is that you want a chance to play and learn hockey . . . and I’ll do everything in my power to give that to you.” Another round of applause. “My brother was an incredible person and through this program, he will live on.” Hunter bows his head momentarily to collect his emotions before looking up and finding me again. “Dekker, will you come out here and do the honors with me?”
I startle at his request but shouldn’t be surprised by it. The two of us have been working side by side, nonstop, to get this place ready for today.
It takes me a few seconds to cross the carpet and make it to him. He links his fingers with mine and gives me that devil-may-care grin.
“In a lot of places, they cut a ribbon to officially kick off the start of something. But here at the Jonah P. Maddox Arena, we like to start things a little differently.” Hunter glances at me. “You ready? Do you remember what we talked about?” Hunter asks the kids all around the ice. “Five. Four. Three.” The arena counts down with him while I look around confused, as if I’m missing something. “Two. One.”
And the minute one is said, the kids around the ice and the people in the stands, all start tossing tennis balls onto the ice.
“Tennis balls?” I laugh.
“Yep.”
I laugh as I watch kids of all ages, ethnicities, and with differing disabilities toss tennis balls onto the ice. There is laughter and giggling, and chills chase over my skin at the sight of Hunter’s dream coming true.
At this lifeline anchoring him.
I glance his way, fully expecting to catch his profile as he takes it all in, but I’m startled when he’s looking straight at me. His eyes are serious, intentional. But his grin, wide and gorgeous, is a funny contradiction.
“What?” I ask just above the noise.
“Nothing.” But the expression on his face dares me not to look away.
“I thought you hated the limelight,” I tease as tennis balls bounce against our legs and feet.
“I do.”
“Then why are we standing here in the middle of all these tennis balls,” I ask.
“Because some things deserve the spotlight.”
“Your brother most certainly did.” I squeeze his hand.
His smile softens, his eyes sadden, and he reaches out to run a thumb down my cheek. “So do you.”
I go to refute him when I see the tennis ball in his hand. Except it’s not a real tennis ball—or rather a useable one—as it’s been cut in half. And when Hunter lifts the top off it, my mind goes blank. I have to remember to breathe.
Nestled inside is a diamond ring. I’m sure it’s gorgeous and sparkly and everything, but what it looks like doesn’t mean a thing. It dims in the shadow of the man who’s holding it.
“Hunter?” I ask in reflex.
“Some things most definitely deserve the spotlight. And you, Dekker Kincade, have made every part of my life shine since the moment you walked into it. With your defiant will and your fiery temper. With your need to help and your love to fix. With just you. We’ve been through so much already, and all I can think about is how there’s no one else I’d rather go through life with than you. Will you marry me?”
“Is this a negotiation?” I ask, fighting back my own smile and my urge to jump in his arms and kiss him a million times.
“No. This is one thing I’m not negotiating on.”
“Whew. I taught you well, then.”
“And?”
“Yes. Of course, the answer is yes.”
And then I give in to what I want.
I jump into his arms and kiss him senseless.
With a whole arena watching.
Because today is a day for spotlights.