4. Theo

Fragments of a dream still lingered in my thoughts as I woke on Saturday morning. Dawson"s hearty laugh echoed in my mind, and my skin tingled with the warmth of his hug. When the last shreds of the sleepy vision faded, an acute ache lodged in my heart. I rolled onto my side, and the empty space in bed was a stark reminder of my love"s absence.

Shifting onto my back, I stared at the ceiling, and Rafe came to mind. He"d somehow managed to awaken feelings I thought had been buried for good with Dawson. At the mindfulness workshop, my heart fluttered every time I looked at him, although I couldn"t quite chase away a hint of guilt about moving forward without my love.

I sighed and hauled myself out of bed, wincing when my bare feet touched the cold, hardwood floor. Only the inertia produced by grief kept me from purchasing a throw rug to solve the early morning problem of frozen toes. I threw on my fluffy bathrobe and scrambled down the stairs to the kitchen for my morning coffee.

Thanking the gods for digital kitchen equipment, I poured a cup of already-brewed coffee and grabbed eggs from the fridge. As I dropped butter into a preheated skillet, the sizzle brought back memories of mornings in the kitchen with Dawson. I could almost feel the warmth of his body against my back, his arms wrapped around my waist while I cooked breakfast.

"Morning, love," he whispered into my ear, his voice scratchy with sleep. The sound never failed to raise goosebumps on the back of my neck.

I"d lean back into his hug. "Good morning, handsome. Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Always, but first, I need a side helping of you."

Next, he"d turn me around and kiss me tenderly while I held my spatula in one hand. I always melted into his lips, and the fingers of my free hand tangled into his wild bedhead while I inhaled his scent, a light hint of sandalwood from the cologne he loved.

While the memory faded, like a puff of smoke rising in the air, I watched the eggs brown around the edges. Handling the spatula with practiced ease, I flipped them over to complete the cooking.

Sitting at the kitchen table, I pictured Dawson across from me. He"d sip his coffee and share details about his upcoming day. He was learning the ins and outs of his dad"s trucking company while they groomed him to be a future executive.

I pictured him with his dark, almost black, hair still damp from the shower and his favorite Blue Harbor High Baseball t-shirt stretched tight across his muscular chest. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, staring at me. His adoring gaze made me feel like the luckiest man in the world.

I blinked back tears when I took the first bite of my eggs, and the image of Dawson faded. I knew the ache in my heart for the years we wouldn"t have together would never entirely disappear, yet time made it more bearable.

When Rafe came back to my mind, and a pang of guilt appeared along with the thoughts, I knew I needed to talk with someone. I scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I found Tyler. He was Dawson"s best friend from high school and a source of never-ending support for me. He co-captained the state-champion high school baseball team with Dawson and was recently hired as an assistant baseball coach and a history teacher at our alma mater.

"Theo, my man, what"s up? Everything good in your neck of the woods?"

I pushed the button to put the phone on speaker. "Hey, Ty. I know it"s last minute, but would you have time to talk today? I"ve hit a rough patch and could use hearing a friendly voice."

After a brief pause, he answered in a warm, measured tone. "Of course, buddy. Lunch at the Bayside? I"ve got a hankering for their turkey club."

I exhaled, relieved at Tyler"s willingness to meet. "Perfect. See you there at noon?"

"You got it."

As the call ended, I smiled softly. If anyone could help sort the emotions swirling inside me, it would be Tyler.

I did my best to occupy myself for the rest of the morning. I did two loads of laundry, took out the garbage, and dusted the downstairs tables and bookshelves. That killed about an hour. Walking down to the marina and beyond soaked up most of the rest.

Five minutes before noon, I entered the Bayside Bookstore and Cafe, a small bell above the door announcing my arrival. The intoxicating, yeasty scent of freshly baked bread drew me in further. My stomach growled. I needed more sustenance than the two eggs I ate for breakfast.

Tyler had arrived even earlier than me. He sat by the front window, his tall, athletic frame folded into a chair. He wore his chestnut hair buzzed short, and when he looked at me, his green eyes sparkled with warmth and affection.

He rose from his seat and offered a hug. With Dawson gone, I missed the powerful embrace of an athlete.

Shortly after we settled into our chairs, a server arrived and took our order. Tyler cheerfully requested the turkey club with an iced tea. I chose chicken salad. Many old friends inexplicably kept their distance when I lost Dawson, but Tyler never strayed.

"Tell me," I began, fidgeting a bit with the cloth napkin I spread in my lap, "how"s the new job going? I suppose it"s not new anymore. You"re almost at the end of your first year."

Tyler"s face lit up. He was eager to talk about his experience. "Phenomenal… that"s the best word for it. The kids are fantastic, and being back on the baseball field… feels like I"m home again. We put a plaque up in the dugout to honor Dawson, and I can almost see him cheering us on during every game."

A lump appeared in my throat at the mention of Dawson"s name. "He"d be so proud of you getting hired on. He told me you"d be a great coach someday."

Tyler rubbed his cheek. "I miss him so much. I know it"s nothing like what you have to deal with, but I always wish I could call him, talk about plays, and then hear him laugh. God, I miss that laugh."

I reached across the table and touched his forearm. "Yeah, makes sense. It"s the little things. They can hit me right in the gut, like seeing his favorite cereal in the grocery store or when a favorite song comes up on the radio in the car."

"He did a mean "Bohemian Rhapsody." I loved hearing his voice crack when he reached for the high notes."

"And then we"d do the head banging part in unison—you know what I"m talking about."

"I do, I do." Tyler shook his head and smiled. "And I know the pain of missing him never goes away, but I also know he"d want you to keep moving forward with your life. He"d want you to be happy again. Know what I mean? You ever think about that?"

I swallowed hard. "I think so, and that"s one of the main reasons I wanted to talk. I met someone. His name"s Rafe and he"s… well, he scares me. I worry that taking any steps forward means leaving Dawson behind."

Tyler leaned across the table. "Listen, opening your heart to somebody new doesn"t mean anything about what you had with Dawson. It can"t erase any of the awesome stuff you shared. If anything, it"s a testament to how amazing your love was. It was so good that it left you with a heart you can open again."

A single tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. "I think you"re right—in here." I touched my head. "I know you are, but it"s hard to get that reasoning to travel to here." I placed my hand over my heart.

Tyler smiled. "Yeah, I understand, but you don"t have to do it alone. You"ve got me to back you up and cheer for your success as you move forward. And there"s Dawson. I know he"s smiling down on you and wants you to be happy."

My heavy heart felt slightly lighter. "Thank you. I knew you"d have some helpful words. What would I do without you as a friend?"

He grinned and switched to a more playful topic. "Well, for starters, you"d have nobody to challenge for the fantasy baseball crown. Speaking of, I"ve got a couple of possible trades we can discuss later. You"ve got what I need."

I laughed. "Good idea. Hit me up online tonight, and we can discuss."

When our food arrived, our conversation shifted to lighter topics—the weather, Blue Harbor"s summer festival, and Tyler"s invitation to a high school baseball game. The clatter of silverware and dishes, along with the consistent hum of other conversations, provided a soothing backdrop for our meal.

As we talked, I marveled at the resilience of the human heart. I worried that mine had been broken forever, but a new connection was already forming, like a tough little flower pushing through the cracks in a sidewalk.

Later, as I walked Tyler to his car, he paused. His expression was suddenly serious again. "There"s something I almost forgot to share. I started this little tradition a few weeks back. Every Sunday morning, I make Dawson"s favorite breakfast—at least what he always ordered on baseball trips—blueberry pancakes."

He paused for a moment and then continued his story. "When I have my plate piled high, I talk to him. That"s right. I put together the words and say them out loud like in old times. It"s my way of keeping him close, giving me a planned outlet for those emotions every week."

My eyes stung again with tears that threatened to stain my cheeks. "That"s beautiful. I might need to steal that idea."

We hugged again, and I pressed my face against his shoulder. "Don"t ever forget that Dawson"s always with you, no matter where you go. He"s part of you forever."

As Tyler pulled away, I set out to walk back home. Some of the weight was gone from my shoulders, and a hint of clarity started to settle in its place. I knew the road ahead was still uncertain, but my hope for a brighter future burned like a smoldering candle flickering into a flame.

Taking a deep breath, I said the words out loud. "My love, you"ll always be in my heart. Thank you for loving me enough to want me to be happy, even if it"s with someone else."

I returned to the quiet sanctuary of my home and listened to the soft creaking of the hardwood floorboards. The air was alive with the memory of Dawson, but it was lighter than before.

Almost instinctively, I found myself drawn to the framed photograph that sat on the fireplace mantel. It was a candid shot of Dawson and me, taken during one of our countless afternoons spent lounging in the park, the sunlight dappling his face as he laughed at some long-forgotten joke.

I picked up the frame, the glass cool and smooth beneath my fingers as I traced the strong lines of his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw that I knew so well. "Hey," I whispered, my voice soft in the stillness of the room. I had a talk with Tyler today—about you, about us, and about Rafe."

I took a deep breath, and the air caught in my throat. "I miss you so much. Some evenings, I still can"t believe you"re gone when I come home. I expect to hear your key in the lock and then see you walk through the front door with that adorable grin on your face."

A single tear rolled down my cheek and then dropped onto the picture frame"s glass. "I"m trying. I want to keep living and loving like I promised you I would. Rafe… maybe he can help. He makes me laugh and think, and I want to take chances with him."

My throat tightened as I continued to stare at Dawson"s smiling face. "I know that you want that for me, my love. I know you"d tell me to follow my heart and reach for the joy with both hands." I paused. "I will try. I"ll try to be brave, open, and willing to love again, but it won"t always be easy. Even if it does work, I need you to know that you will always be part of me, with part of my heart and soul reserved only for you. Always."

I kissed the photograph before I put it back on the mantel. My fingers lingered briefly on the metal frame. Suddenly inspired, I crossed the room to pick up my sketchbook.

Opening it to a page with a quick, impressionistic sketch of Rafe, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of his smile. I touched the curve of his cheek and trailed my fingertip down his rugged jawline. It was hard to believe he"d captured my attention so powerfully in such a short time.

I sat on the couch, sketchbook in my lap, and daydreamed about a future where I"d wake up every morning to Rafe"s smile. We"d fill our lives with laughter, love, and new adventures. Doubt entered my mind briefly, and with it came a voice inside my head. Can you really open your heart again, Theo?

What if the pain of losing Dawson was still too raw, too all-consuming? What if, in trying to move forward, I constantly compared Rafe to the love I had lost, forever chasing a ghost of what could have been?

Remembering all I"d learned from mindfulness exercises, I let the doubt wash over me. I made sure I could feel it, but I didn"t give it the power to control me. I had to expect moments of fear and hesitation as I moved forward. Grief was an onerous burden to bear, but I could do it. It wasn"t a matter of conquering it. It was a matter of incorporating it into my daily life without letting it rule.

A happy future sounded like almost too much to hope for and believe, but if I could piece together a vivid dream about it, maybe it would be possible. I looked at my sketch of Rafe again, and I smiled. If I were granted the chance to love and be loved by not just one but two incredible men… then I would be the most fortunate person in the world.

With that knowledge, a sense of peace I hadn"t felt in years settled over me. It started as a warm sensation building in my chest like a miniature sun rising. The rays reached out to every part of my body. The tension in my shoulders eased, and I could finally fill my lungs with a full, deep breath.

I closed my eyes and let the profound peace settle deep into my bones. The pain of losing Dawson wasn"t gone—it would always be a part of me—but I was learning how to make space for it, along with the hope for a new love.