Page 59 of Falling For Alaska

There’s ice beneath me.

Still, I’m not cold. I’m surprised by how soft the breeze feels against my face, nothing like the brutal air I remember. I’m wearing the same coat as that day, and my skates are laced tight around my ankles.

It’s like nothing’s changed.

Like I never left.

Only this time, my heart isn’t racing.

I kneel on the ice, staring at the spot in front of me, the place where I lost Matthew. The hole is still there next to me. The cracks spreading outward like a spiderweb. I lean in, my breath vanishing into white air.

Palms resting against the ice, the layer thinner now, clear enough to see every detail. His skin is pale with brown hair floating around his face, weightless. And there’s this ridiculous Christmas sweater. Like I said, it’s like nothing changed. He’s waiting, watching me.

“You’re leaving me here?” he asks, his voice impossibly clear, as if there’s nothing separating us.

My hand flies to my mouth. “Matthew.” He smiles in that familiar way I could recognize among a thousand others. Tears blur my vision. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” He studies me, his blue eyes darker than I remember.

“You tried, Laska,” he says softly. “You did your best.”

“It wasn’t enough.” Matthew tilts his head.

“Look at your hands.” I hesitate, then glance down, expecting blood and butchered skin. All I see are my scars. Thin, pale lines that have long since healed. Proof that time moved forward, even when I tried to stay frozen in that moment. Pressing my palms flat against the ice, I line my hands with his.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he says. “For all the years I’ve haunted you. For all the times I made choices for you. I should have known better. I should have been…a better brother.” He exhales, his voice almost breaking. “I guess I wanted to keep you to myself. Even when I knew deep down you weren’t meant for the same things.”

A sad smile tugs at my lips. “I admired you, you know. I wanted to do everything like you.” My voice drops. “It just became too much when we grew up.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, Alaska. Really.”

My breath shakes. “What…what happens now?”

He gives me a knowing look. “What do you think?”

I take a shaky breath. “I think…it’s time you let me go.”

“I think so too.” His expression softens. “I don’t belong up there anymore. And I think you’ve known that for a long time.”

A sob slips from my throat. “It’s…it’s so hard to say goodbye.”

“I know,” he says calmly, “but you can do hard things.” His voice is steady, certain. “I’ve watched you do hard things.”

My vision blurs. “I love you, you know that, right?”

His lips curve into a soft smile. “I knew before we were even born.” Tears spill down my cheeks as his hand drifts away from the ice. He opens his mouth one last time.

“Goodbye, Alaska.” My shoulders shake and I press a hand to my chest.

“Goodbye, Matthew.” He sinks, his body fading into the dark, pulled gently by the depths. The ice settles, and then…nothing. Only the empty stretch of frozen water beneath me. Silence falls over me in this infinity of ice. I inhale, cold filling my lungs. Only this time, I don’t stay on the ground.

I push myself up and walk away.

I wake with tears dampening my pillow, the ghost of his voice still lingering in my ears. Pushing the covers aside, I sit up, watching the sunrise pierce through the branches.

“It’s over,” I mutter to myself.

Never again.

Chapter Twenty-One