3

“What?′ I say, leaning forward.

“When you showed up, I was asking God, or the universe, or whoever the fuck was listening, for a sign. I wanted one thing to give me a sign that I’d made the wrong choice, that I’d get through what’s in store for me, that even though this isn’t what I want, that I’ll survive it. You showed up at that exact moment, Thumbelina.” His throats works a heavy swallow as he grips his glass, tight enough that I begin to worry it’ll crack.

“It could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been a cop, or some angry commuter. It could’ve been a bird shitting on my shoe. It could’ve been any sign, and I would’ve taken it, because I’m not ready to go, but it wasn’t any of those things. It was you. It was you and it was me, and I have to believe that whoever the fuck is out there made that happen for us. We saved each other so you can fight your past for a future, and I can fight my future for a life. That’s my reason. I don’t need a list; I got my answer today.” He finishes his thoughts with a massive, heartwarming smile.

I can’t help but listen, enthralled by how positive he is. He said it was the worst day of his life, yet here he is, being fifty shades of philosophical and so damn sure of not only his future, but mine too.

I can’t help but be in awe of him, this beautiful, skyscraper of a man, covered in tattoos with a hard as hell exterior, spouting about signs, dreams, and futures like he’s meant to.

“Who the hell are you?” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

He smiles at me with his mega-watt, panty-melting smile. “I’m a stranger, Thumbelina. I’m exactly who and where I should be.”

“Can you tell me anything about yourself? What’s your real name? Am I ever going to see you again?” I practically beg.

Please say yes. This can’t be it.

His smile fades as quickly as it arrived, and he turns to look out the window, onto the busy street. He stays quiet for a few minutes, his jaw starting to flex and tick. I don’t understand what just happened. I know he said we’re strangers, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way anymore. I’ve never had a connection with someone like this.

He finally looks back at me with a heavy grimace etched on his perfect face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. My life is no place for someone with such a beautiful future ahead of them. I think we should just keep our names as is: Thumbelina and Redwood. Anonymity. Strangers.”

Sweetheart.

“Oh,” I whisper, feeling completely defeated. My heart, the thing I try to keep from feeling anything, cracks. He grabs my hand from the table and gives it a squeeze.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I feel it too. I wish this wasn’t it. I wish the cosmos dropped you in my life for more than just saving it, but I mean it when I say your future is too bright to be brought down by mine. What’s in store for me isn’t as pretty as you deserve, mi peque?o sol , and damn if I’m bringing you down with me,” he says with a half-smile that I think he intends to be reassuring. I squeeze his hand back, fighting my ridiculous emotional response to him.

I clear my throat from the ball currently restricting my airway. “Are you going to keep fighting for a better future, Redwood?”

“Yeah, Thumbelina, I am,” he whispers.

Still holding hands, eyes locked, I can’t help but notice when his gaze drops down to my mouth. Out of instinct, I lick my dry lips, and he follows the movement. Without any hesitation, he leans his large body across the small table and I find myself mirroring his movements.

He’s going to kiss me. Yes, yes, yes. Kiss me.

My eyes drift shut and I lean in a bit further. His breath skates across my mouth. My body shivers at the feeling, all excitement and nerves. This will be it, my first real kiss. My first real kiss with him.

Then, his phone rings, and just as quickly as his lips hovered over mine, they disappear. I instantly mourn the loss of his mouth, of his warmth. He lets out an annoyed growl, releases my hand, and answers his phone. I listen to one side of the conversation; whatever’s being said on the other end sobers him quickly.

When he hangs up, he looks down at his phone, clearly reading whatever messages he’d been ignoring.

“Sorry, that was my brother. I got a message a while ago that your car is ready.”

He drops his phone and glances back down at our lists. Pulling off the top piece, he hands it to me, a small smile playing on his beautiful, kissable mouth. He looks down at the empty pad again and his smile widens. Redwood hides it from me and scribbles something quickly, then tears it out and folds it up. For a brief second, I get excited, thinking it’s his number. That thought goes up in smoke as he pulls out his wallet, drops some cash on the table, and tucks the note inside his wallet.

“Let’s get out of here, Thumbelina. We’ve got futures to live.” He grabs my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world and tugs me along. I tuck my list into my hoodie pocket and follow him out of our cozy little diner nest and into the future.

He drives us to the mechanic shop, and I can’t help but feel sweaty and anxious the whole way. I don’t want this to be the end. Not at all. I don’t want this to be goodbye.

The mood sobers up pretty quickly during the drive which, sadly, is extremely short. When we arrive at the mechanic’s shop, Redwood hops out and does one of those bro shakes with a shorter Hispanic man. Redwood waves me out of the car, and hesitantly, I walk toward them.

“Vinny, this is Thumbelina. Thumbelina this is Vinny.” I laugh at that, at the idea of our pseudonyms being actual names, but decide to go along with it.

“Uh, okay cool,” Vinny says awkwardly, his brows pinched. “Hey, girl. Your car is ready. It was a quick fix and my locksmith hooked you up with a new key and fob. You’re all set.” Vinny hands me the new keys, gesturing to my car sitting the parking lot.

My heart drops as the events of today come crashing back in.

“Oh shit, I just realized my wallet was stolen,” I rush out, trying to shove the keys back at Vinny while I figure out how to handle this with no phone to call for help. I guess I could call my parents, but then they’d know where I was this morning and what ha—

“Don’t worry about it, beautiful . Vinny owed me a favor,” Redwood says, pulling me out of my panicked spiral. He slaps Vinny on the shoulder in thanks, accepts the offered keys back, and places them in my shaky hand.

“Nice to meet you, Thumbelina. Enjoy your ride,” Vinny says with a small wave as he walks back into the garage. I want to thank him, smile, say something kind, but I can’t. I can’t think about anything else but…

This is it. I wipe my sweaty palms down my yoga pants, never taking my eyes off my feet. I can’t look up at him. I’m too afraid he’ll see the emotions swirling in my eyes at the thought of losing him.

Losing him? He isn’t yours to lose, Ella.

Before I can say anything stupid, like beg him to change his mind, he places two fingers under my chin and guides my face up to look up at him.

With a serious expression and a quiet voice, he says, “You saved my life today, Thumbelina, and I mean that. I’m not going to waste the gift you gave me today. I fucking saved your life, too, so you owe me. Don’t you dare give up before you’ve had a chance to finish that long-ass list. It’s going to take you years to finish, and I know that by the time you do, your life will be so full of joy, you won’t see your past anymore. There will be no more darkness. Fill it with fucking sunshine. Promise me ,” he demands.

I swallow through the huge lump in my throat and jerk a shaky nod, his fingers still grasping my chin. “I promise,” I whisper.

Try as I might, I can’t fight the tear that escapes the side of my eye. He reaches his free hand up to wipe it away, as if he was meant to.

Meant to .

“I don’t want to do this, but I have to walk away,” he grits out. “I have to because it’s what’s best for our futures. The universe brought us together today, and it will bring us together again if it’s meant to be. When the timing is right, we’ll be back. Do you believe me?” he asks quietly, searching my eyes for my answer.

Do I? I want to.

God, do I want to believe that.

Future.

Joy.

Sunshine.

I trust you.

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet on another bridge,” I sigh with a small, forced smile.

Kiss me, please.

He stares into my eyes and gives me a huge smile, one just for me, and pulls me into a hug. We hold onto each other for what feels like forever, just like on the bridge, neither of us wanting to let go. Finally, after what could be hours, or maybe just minutes, he releases a heavy breath. I feel his lips on the crown of my head for a long, hard kiss. My eyes burn. This is it.

“Take care of yourself, Thumbelina. Thank you for making the worst day of my life the best,” he murmurs into my hair. With one last squeeze, he releases me, takes a step back, and walks away, leaving me with…

Everything.

7 Months Later

Seven months ago, my life changed forever.

The day I walked out onto the bridge, ready to end it all, and fell face-first into a beautiful giant turned my life upside down and right-side up. I meant it when I said he gave me everything. Everything except him, of course.

It’s been months, and fate never brought us back together. It did, however, bring me to my list. My list of a joy-filled future, one I’m intent on fulfilling, even the last entries Redwood added. He couldn’t have known, but those are the hardest ones for me. Kismet, though, right? They’re difficult, and they’re on my joy bucket list, so they’re goals I’m working towards. I still have extremely hard days, but I’m actively working on finding the sunshine he believed was inside me.

I’m trying, so damn hard .

That day, when I got home after he left, was nuts, to say the least. In the chaos of my morning, and the crazy whirlwind of my afternoon, I forgot a few huge, key facts.

My letters being number one. The damn letters. My goodbyes.

Alyssa had found them and, thank God, she only read hers. She’d gone back to bed after the whole nightmare incident and, since she works nights, she was asleep until noon. She’d only found her letter a few hours before I got home.

In the meantime, however, she’d called the police, who set up a search. She’d called my parents, who were out of the city for the day. They’d driven back in absolute hysteria but never made it to their letters. Instead, they went straight to the police station to meet with a detective.

When I got home, the cops were there with Alyssa. She was a sobbing mess, understandably so. The police questioned me, and it was heavily suggested, if not basically required, that I go to the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation. I fought it tooth and nail, but ultimately relented to my parents’ pleas. I ripped up the remaining letters before anyone found them and voluntarily went to the hospital.

It was insane to me to think that going to the psych ward was necessary, given how utterly amazing my day turned out, but when I realized how badly it started, I figured talking to someone couldn’t hurt. I couldn’t achieve anything on my list if the weight of my past still rose up to drag me back down.

I stayed there for a week, until I was deemed mentally stable. The only medicine I was given was a prescription for anti-anxiety pills. The doctors decided against anything potentially lethal, given my history, even though overdosing was never a possibility. I went back to therapy and joined a support group for suicide survivors. These were choices I’d made.

I chose life, and, in choosing life, I chose to get help.

At my first meeting, I ran into an old friend. Well, he’s more than a friend. He’s my past. He, at one point, was the only one keeping me alive, above water. In the darkest moments of my life, he was my tether. We went through hell together, and then we were separated.

I had no idea I’d ever see him again, and I was terrified of how he’d react if we crossed paths. To my surprise, our friendship blossomed into someone I can’t live without. I’m not sure what we used to be to each other, but it’s very different from what we are now. Now, he’s just as much my tether to sanity and safety as I am for him.

Hunter.

I realized in meeting Redwood and talking things out with him, truly opening up, that there’s healing in asking for help. I don’t have to be alone. Opening up to people means letting them in, and although it’s scary, it’s healing, too. I still haven’t opened up to anyone about certain parts of my dark history, but it’s a step in the right direction. Hunter is here for that. He’s the only one in the world who knows what I went through, because he was there, going through it with me.

Well, he’s not the only one, but we stay the hell away from that topic. From them.

The support group helps. I’ve been going once a week. We don’t focus on the past, only on the future, which has been extremely helpful in getting to my joy. I even shared my experience on the bridge, the beautiful man who saved my life, and the list he helped me create. The woman in charge loved the idea and make a Joy List one week as an exercise. I even added some more to mine.

I’ve begun to knock some items off my list in recent months. I was accepted to San Francisco State’s business program. I’ve started to do some volunteer work. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of him. Redwood.

As much as I loved our whole hidden identity thing we had going on, I wish I knew his real name. I wish I knew more about him. Above all else, I wish I could see him again, make sure he’s okay. Every day, I worry he went back to finish the job. l check newspapers and local Facebook pages to make sure I don’t see anything about a man meeting his description having lost his life. I hope he’s happy, that his future, even if it was forced upon him, isn’t as bad as he was afraid it would be. I hope he’s found sunshine, that he still thinks about me, at least half as much as I think about him.

Being busy has helped me stay the course toward the future I’ve always wanted but never allowed myself to dream of. Now that school has started, things are going to get so much busier, and to be honest, I’m here for it.

I love being busy, keeping my mind focused on goals rather than sitting around idly. My depression always gets the best of me when I’m stagnant, alone, lost in my own thoughts. Anxiety and depression never go away completely. It’s something that I’m going to battle with my entire life. All I can do is cope and keep moving forward.

I can’t let it get as bad as it used to be, let it get to the point of suffocation, where it felt as though my only way to escape was death.

I work daily to keep my head above the metaphorical water.

I know it’s not a great tactic but leaning on Hunter has helped me beyond measure. Hunter struggles with a lot of the same issues, and we’ve become each other’s support systems once again, just like when we were kids. It was easy for us both to fall back into it. We push each other, support each other, and we keep each other in check.

Together, we’re healing.

I really don’t know where I would be without him. When one of us stumbles, the other picks us back up without judgment or question. He’s my life raft in the middle of the ocean. He may not be able to fully pull me towards the shore, but he’s keeping me afloat while I battle the waves.

After months of life-changing choices and hard work, I can honestly say I’ve never been more excited about my future, particularly as I take my seat in my first-ever college lecture. I feel so hopeful for my future, and the ugliness of my past is staying exactly where it needs to be: in the past.

I glance up at the big black chalkboard spanning most of the front of the classroom and smile at the words: Marketing 101. Class number one towards my big, sunshiny dreams. I allow myself a rare smile as I take in my surroundings.

I’m in freaking college. Holy shit, I did it!

The room quickly fills and almost every single chair is taken, which is wild to me. The lecture hall contains over 200 seats. The enormity of it fills my stomach with butterflies of both nerves and excitement.

I’m so distracted by my surroundings, I don’t notice someone sitting down to my right until I hear a throat clear next to me. I jolt from of my perusal and glance over to see where the noise came from. Instantly, my mind is overtaken by a bright smile and big, beautiful eyes looking back at me.

“Hi, I’m Drew...”