Half of My Heart ✔️

64 | only you

I cast my gaze up, resting my chin on my hand and staring out the window in front of me. Fresh, salty air billows through the sheer curtains and blows into the bright room. The sun is deep in its setting, drowning Greece's darkening blue ocean in glowing reds and golds. Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply, taking in the silence around me.

I open my eyes and look down at the book in front of me. I'd hoped to finish it by tonight but decide to save the rest of Their Eyes Were Watching God for tomorrow. Still, I finish reading the rest of the page I'm on, absentmindedly reaching to my left.

Tracing my finger over a quote near the bottom of the page, I place a red tab on the edge before shutting the book. Then I take my time closing the windows of the villa and cleaning up around the rooms, checking the clock on the wall every few seconds.

When the sky is finally an infinite dark expanse, I slip on a hoodie and grab my sandals. Then I exit out the back door, my strides down the steps practically bursting with anticipation.

The wind picks up when my feet hit the cool sand, twisting my hair all around my face. I pull the hoodie over my head as I approach the two beach chairs. Slowly, I lower myself into the right seat, keeping my eyes on the now black sky.

I hear a few voices to my right and look to see five young boys playing soccer, apparently unbothered by the darkness surrounding them. I've seen them out here almost every day. They see me and wave, taking an extra few seconds to glance around me before returning to their game.

Near the shoreline, just beyond the reach of the crashing waves, I see two people walking hand-in-hand. Though their features are hidden by shadows, I see the hunch of the man's shoulders and the walker in the woman's other hand. This is the third time I've seen this elderly couple walking on the beach this week.

I smile at them although I know they can't see me. They shuffle along slowly. But together.

Once they're out of sight, I check my watch yet again. Then I lean my head back and try to relax, although the anticipation and warmth builds in my chest as I feel the seconds tick by. My eyes start to adjust to the darkness, picking up the small dots of white lights in the dark expanse above me.

A few minutes later, the stars are as bright as ever and seem to be twinkling just for me. Then my eyes begin their search for the star that outshines all the rest.

I sit up when I see it, sitting almost in the middle of my vision, as if asking how I could ever overlook it. It seems to wink at me, enamoring and holding my attention, right where it's supposed to be. Home.

My mind wanders to the story Jack told me while we laid under the artificial stars. The more I think about it, the more I realize a glaring problem with that story's message.

You see, when a star dies, it morphs into a black hole, consuming anything and everything around it. Even if Ren's death guided Lux home, Lux would have come home to nothing. Not Ren. Not anything. Emptiness.

I wish, more than anything, that seven-year-old Jack would have had someone to tell him exactly that. I stare up at the sky and wish.

Then I see something: the faintest twinkle right beside the star's overwhelming brightness. I blink, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me. But when I look again, I think that it's still there. Faint, but there.

Another star, shining right beside its wandering companion.

The sand rustles far behind me, but I can't seem to tear my eyes from the story above me.

Finally, I lean back in my seat and glance at the empty chair beside me. Wiping sand off the wood, I look back at the sky with a smile on my face, just as the dim star blinks out.

The rustling behind me grows closer, and I have to wonder if I imagined it altogether.