The violets were not the only thing he had planned, as I came to realize. When the last bit of evening light faded away, and the stars came out, he laid back with an arm behind his head and turned his gray eyes to the tiny lights in the sky. Watch the stars. I wondered briefly how much of my journal he’d read, and I felt suddenly very aware of the private part of myself he’d gotten a glimpse of through the words on those pages.

His ability to be so comfortable at any given moment was still astounding to me. He could just lay down and gaze up at the sky and not feel vulnerable or scared that I might judge his behavior. Meanwhile, I was always curled up tight, terrified of how people viewed me, always nervous they would see the broken pieces under my skin and scoff at my ugliness. I envied how carefree he was, how easy it was for him to be himself. I wanted it too.

I followed his lead and laid down, trying not to be bothered but feeling embarrassed immediately. I could sense him peeking at me, and I tried to ignore it, until I couldn’t anymore. When I turned my head to confront him, his eyes were gentle, and I felt the anxiousness in my chest uncoil slightly. 

I looked back to the sky when I couldn’t stand his stare any longer, then I spoke to help ignore the shallowness of my breathing. “I was never able to see the stars like this in the city. Too much light pollution.” 

Out here, with the crisp air and clear sky, with nothing but the bright moon lighting the property, I could see everything. Every tiny little speckle of white on the deep blue canvas above us. It was beautiful in it’s overwhelmingness. I imagined the blackness stretching down from the sky and wrapping around me like silk, or sinking under the surface of a motionless, inky lake. How still and quiet it would be.

My thoughts slipped out, my lips loose with him. “It’s a little strange, to look up there and see all those stars and realize how insignificant you are. How small and pointless your life is in comparison to the grand things out there.”

I heard him sigh sadly, and I turned, seeking an explanation. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, I could see the stars shining in the swirling gray. 

“You’re looking at it all wrong. You can’t compare your individual self to the whole of something; you’ll always fall short. You’re not insignificant. By that logic, each star is insignificant, but take them away, and the sky is just an endless emptiness.” 

I brought my brows together, considering his point of view as I stared over the twinkling lights in the sky. “But if one of the billions of stars disappeared, I wouldn’t even notice,” I countered, my words holding a double meaning I was sure he was aware of.

He hummed. “You wouldn’t notice if a handful disappeared, or if hundreds or thousands disappeared, but suddenly the constellations are no longer complete, and there are blank spaces, and the masterpiece slowly becomes as dull as a light polluted city sky. Every single star is significant, because it’s each one that helps make the sky so overwhelmingly grand.” 

His words hit me like a hard punch to my chest. The way he spoke tangled me up, like he had a deep, unexplained understanding I could never comprehend. He stared at me with intention, confirming his reply was chosen carefully to have the same double meaning as mine. 

I felt something swell in my throat, and I tried to swallow it down but it wouldn’t leave. I let out a shaken breath. “But I’m not a star.”

I heard him scoff gently, like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. “No, Violet. You’re so much more than just a star.” 

I closed my eyes, and the tears I hadn’t realized were welling up escaped from my lashes and raced down my temple into my hair. He shifted, reaching out to gently wipe the wetness from my skin with his thumb, like it was nothing.

We both turned back to the vast night sky above us, and I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence between us with unnecessary words or questions anymore. I watched the stars as they twinkled against their dark backdrop, never-ending speckles of white against deep navy blue that were only broken by the walls of plants around us. I wasn’t sure I would ever know what a perfect moment was, but I imagined the peace I found laying there with him was something close to it. 

I didn’t know how the night went by so quickly, though I guess it was hard not to lose track of time when there was nothing keeping it besides the moon slowly drifting across the sky. I remembered staring at the stars until my mind drew new constellations, then staring at him until I could see galaxies in his eyes, then closing my own and not seeing anything at all. Instead, I smelt the flowers and imagined a better time when everything didn’t hurt and the burning sun and ocean salt fixed all my problems.

 I wasn’t sure if I actually slept, but it was something so close that it might as well have been, a state of overwhelming calmness and security I hadn’t felt in years. I knew it was safe to drift away here. He would call me back to reality when it was time, which he did. I opened my eyes when I heard my name, and the sky had shifted from a deep navy blue to a color slightly more pastel. 

“I have one more thing in mind. You aren’t too tired, are you?” He’d turned over onto his stomach, and I got the impression that he had switched from watching the sky to watching me. The thought left a blush on my cheeks. 

“You’ve already kept me out all night,” I pointed out, although not objecting.

He grinned. “Then a little longer won’t make a difference.” 

We left the garden, and he led us along the edge of the trees, the long way down to the ocean where I had indulged my demons in the days previous. The tall grass we trampled through was wet with dew and it soaked the hem of my jeans. In the distance, birds chirped to welcome the approaching morning, lingering, not ready to fly south just yet. I knew how they felt. 

The trees became more sparse as we neared the coast, until they disappeared and all that was left was the sky and sea, meeting in the middle at a straight, endless horizon. We took a rocky path down the side of the cliff to get to the beach, and when I reached the water’s edge, I inhaled the salty air, an elixir getting to work on healing my wounded heart. I wondered how different things might have been if I was only allowed to live here instead of trapped in the city. It made me sad to think it might have changed everything. 

Of course, if that happened, maybe Grampie wouldn’t have had his accident, and I wouldn’t have tried to kill myself, and Jack wouldn’t need to be here to rake the leaves or mend my soul, and we wouldn’t be standing there together watching the horizon. 

Stay up all night to see the sun rise. 

He’d went for the hat trick.

As the words re-wrote themselves in my mind’s eye, a sliver of the sun’s fire peeked over the horizon from the east. I could understand why centuries ago people thought the world was flat, and why the sun was a god. When you could stand there and see it emerging from the very end of the ocean, how could someone not think if they travelled long enough and far enough they could find where that fiery face met the sea?

“It’s on your list, right?” He quoted himself, breaking me out of my thoughts with his question. I nodded, though I’d already figured out his plan. His intentions, however, still eluded me. I watched him smile as he returned his gaze out over the water. “We won’t have very many clear days left now that it’s November. I thought you ought to see it before the gray gets in the way.”

“Why are you doing this?” The thought blurted out before I could contain it. I wasn’t sure I’d get a solid answer, but it was worth asking at the chance I might. 

He was feeling chatty it seemed, because he peered down to his feet to consider a reply. “I guess I feel like it would be a shame, for your list to go so unfinished, if you’re going to go through with it regardless. If I can’t change your mind, I’d at least like to know your last days, however many you have left, are all as beautiful as they deserve to be.” 

Once again, his words took my breath away, drawing from me more emotion than the beautiful sunrise we stood in front of. I didn’t know where he came from or how I stumbled into knowing him, but I found myself glad all my mistakes had somehow brought me to this moment.