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“I love you, too,” I whisper, surprised by how effortless it feels. To love him. To admit I love him. Despite the heartache and the fear. I love him. And it’s enough. Because a single second with Pax is better than the last forty-eight hours without him. And even if I only get another second or minute or day, it’ll be worth it. He’s worth it. Always.
The band is still officially on hiatus, but I don’t mind anymore. It seems settling down with someone you love has a way of quieting the other noises around you, and Tatum and me? We’ve never been happier.
“Oh, my dear boyfriend, you have no idea. Want to know a secret?” I nod. “When I came to clean the house for the first time, I literally told Rory I was in love with the owner because this place was so perfect.”
“It’s crazy, you know? How a single person can make such a lasting impact on so many people’s lives. Like seriously, look at all of these people. They’re here to watch someone change a pipe on an organ so it can play a new chord in a song written by an experimental composer who was convinced that the experience of the song was more important than the actual song itself.” I shake my head. “It’s crazy, don’t you think?”
“Do you think any of them are ready?” he asks. “The locals. They’ve experienced the same note for almost two years. Do you think they’re ready to experience something new?”
I still miss Archer. I always will. But there’s something healing in it, too. In letting go. In accepting change instead of fighting it. In learning to appreciate the new sound while accepting how much you’ll miss the old one.
The man goes quiet, and the woman nods at him, approaching the organ once more. Sliding the pipe into place, the chord changes, and a wonder-filled hush blankets the church except for the beautiful new chord ringing throughout. Like a wave, it rolls over me, and I close my eyes, committing it to memory. The sound. The feeling. The acceptance of change and all it brings with it. “How long have you been planning this?” I whisper. “Since the moment I told you about the song.”
“I love you, Birthday Girl,” Pax murmurs. The slight rasp of his voice mingles with the low hum of the organ, making me weepy but in the best way possible. “I love your loyalty. I love your heart. I love your sass and your wit. But most of all, I love how deeply you love. How you let it consume you, even when it’s scary or reckless.”
“I love you so much, and I’m really hoping you’ll do me the favor of giving me the rest of your life to keep loving you. To keep showing you how much you mean to me. How you’re my everything.” A sheen hits his eyes as he exhales slowly. “Will you marry me, Birthday Girl?”
“You’re doing this here?” I whisper. “Not sure there’s a better place to do it.”
“You’re the only one for me, Tate. And I know Archer is some pretty steep competition, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only one for you, too. I want to make it official. Will you marry me?” Marry me.
If you are out there somewhere watching over me, you’ve probably caught a glimpse of two—or a billion—of me with Pax. He’s pretty great. Super patient and understanding. You’d love him. I know you would. You’d approve, too. Of how he treats me. I don’t know if you sent Pax to me, but if you did, thank you. And if you didn’t, well, still thank you. He won’t replace you. No one can replace you, Archer. But he does make me happy.
When I was in the church today, I couldn’t help but wonder if you were watching me. If you were there, hidden in the song. I can’t wait for you to watch the rest of my life unfold and all of the note changes to go with it.
And maybe, just maybe, we’ll be able to listen to the completed piece together. As. Slow. As. Possible. But until then, I'll keep writing my own song, grateful for every note that comes my...
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