Page 115 of The Edge of Always

Emmett wipes his thumbs across his eyes and then reaches to do the same for me. It’s such a tender gesture.

‘I never told you how much I love you, Luna. How much I have always loved you. I didn’t know what to do with it back then, because my love for you has always been so huge. Like, right from when we were five or something crazy like that. That’s what Earl was trying to show me. The answer to the question is you, Luna, you’re my home. And if you’re here, then that’s where I will be. Right here, with you, if you’ll have me. Will you have me?’

I am… devastated. These are all the things that I’ve always wanted Emmett to say. And now he’s said them, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters because though I’m well in this moment, we both know that I’m almost out of time.

‘But Emmett, I’m not well, you know I’m not well. I don’t know how long I have, but it can’t be long.’ I mumble a few words about tissue type and transplant, which absolutely no one should have to say during grand declarations of love.

‘I’ll never have children,’ I tell him. ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’ I mean, because I wouldn’t be around long enough to see them grow up.

‘That’s not my priority, you are.’

‘No, Emmett, you don’t understand. I’m dying. I’ll be dead soon. There’s no point, we’re too late.’

Emmett has turned to face me, but I can’t look at him. It’s just like before – I need to let him go. It’s the right thing to do. The thing that he desperately needs, if he’s even to have a chance at happiness. I tell him that.

‘You have to go, Emmett. Go back to your life, forget about it here. Meet someone else. Settle down. Have a wonderful, brilliant life.’

I think I’ve convinced him. I sound convincing, even to me, when my words are breaking my already broken heart and crushing my soul. Here’s what I know. Earl told me that beauty cannot exist without decay, that life can’t flourish without death, but sometimes, death isn’t poetic. It isn’t beautifully tragic. It’s just sad. And I can’t bear the thought of all the sadness. I can’t face it. Dying alone is bad, but with Emmett it would be unbearable.

‘I’m not going, Luna. My life is with you. That’s the way it was meant to be. That’s the way it has to be.’

‘But Emmett, you’re not listening to me.’

‘Whether you’re alive for a week or a year, Luna, I want to be there for it. I don’t care how much it hurts after. I don’t need protecting anymore because I’m not the same person that I was then. I don’t need saving, Luna. I’m already saved.’

All I manage is a sob. It could be true. Maybe Emmett doesn’t need saving.

‘You deserve this, Luna. Let yourself have it. Let me love you, please.’

At his words, the wind takes whatever reservations I might still have, lifts them up high above the cliffs and blows them away. Of course I want this, I’ve always wanted it.

I’m laughing then, crying happy tears finally. ‘You made me go on a quest to Paris when you knew the answer all along,’ I laugh.

‘Of course. I just wanted to spend a week in Paris with you. I love you, I love you, Luna.’ He’s holding the edges of my jacket then, and I’m pressing my lips to his to taste the sea air on them.

‘I love you, Emmett.’

‘For always?’ he asks, through more kisses.

‘Absolutely,’ I agree. ‘For always.’