Page 182 of Graves

Thankfully, Koh has a little more self-control and pushes me back. I reluctantly give in, but steal one last deep kiss.

When I turn toward the stage, Koh loops an arm around me and draws me to his side.

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me,” he whispers close to my ear.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’m exactly where I belong.”

At that moment, the venue floods with light, and Tristan steps onto the stage to thunderous applause. Liam punches my arm, grinning, and even Nahla can’t hide her excitement.

The electric atmosphere instantly infects me. A joy rises inside me that I can barely comprehend. It’s been forever since I felt this normal.

Everything is perfect. And the man at my side is the greatest gift life has ever given me.

When Koh turns to me, his eyes shining, I kiss him again. “Thank you,” I say seriously. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His warm smile makes my heart bloom, and everything becomes music.

Epilogue

—

Aran

2 months later

“Maybe all of this had to happen. Otherwise, we never would’ve met.”

I’m sitting on the terrace, rocking little Lisa in my arms. She stares up at me with big blue eyes, as if she understands every single word. Pixie is sprawled at my feet, basking in the sun.

“So in a twisted way, I guess I was lucky I almost died. Too bad you missed the last gig, though. It was really good.”

“What are you talking about?” Koh asks, irritated, as he sets the salad bowl on the table.

Behind him, Sophie and her husband Chris come out carrying two more plates piled with meat and grilled vegetables.

“The gig was cool,” I say with a shrug. “I’m already missing the stage a little.”

“Yeah,” Koh agrees, “the gig was cool, but looking for the silver lining in the other thing… I don’t know.”

Sophie sits down across from me. In her flowery summer dress and messy bun, she’s beautifully carefree. She’s never been one for much makeup—probably because it feels like too much effort. She has no idea how much it enhances her natural beauty.

“It does sound a bit morbid,” she says with a wink, “but unfortunately true.” She shoots me a sharp look. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again, little brother. Twice in one lifetime is more than enough.”

I think back to the conversation we had three months ago, when she came to New York heavily pregnant and gave me hell. In the end, she broke down crying, threw her arms around my neck, and refused to let go.

Seemingly at peace with how that long talk turned out, she pours us both a glass of iced tea. Chris and Koh are drinking beer.

“Koh said the paintings inside are yours,” Chris says, nodding toward the living room.

I’m surprised he even talked to Koh about them. The man earns his living as a chemist and spends his days in a lab developing new molecules for synthetic materials.

He looks like my third-grade teacher: slim, brown-haired, wearing glasses and a light green polo shirt. When I first saw him, I knew he was perfect for my sister.

“Yeah,” I answer, glancing through the open window at the large painting above the sofa. “Those are mine. You into art?”

Chris furrows his brow thoughtfully. “Not really,” he admits. “But these caught my eye in a good way.”

“No more music?” Sophie asks, helping herself to the meat.