It began quietly. A call placed from the hospital, one Angelo had hoped he would never have to make. There were no long explanations, no drawn-out stories—just the truth, spoken gently. He told Mikaela first, then Lance. Rainan was sick. It was pancreatic cancer. It was terminal. The silence on the other end of the line was enough to say everything else. They didn’t ask too many questions. They just listened. And when they could speak, they said they were there for him—for Rainan.
There was no drama to it, no frantic sobbing, only the heaviness of heartbreak sitting quietly between people who loved the same man.
Back in the hospital room, Rainan was sitting by the window, the late afternoon sun painting soft light across his face. He looked thinner than ever. His skin had grown pale, and the sharpness of his collarbones beneath his hospital gown made him seem more fragile, more paper-thin. Yet his eyes still carried that same light—dimmed, yes, but steady.
“I want to see the ocean,” Rainan said softly, not looking away from the horizon. “Just once more.”
Angelo didn’t hesitate. “Then we’ll go.”
The following day, after hours of quiet planning, Dr. Elias stood at the foot of Rainan’s bed, clipboard in hand, eyes unreadable. He studied the numbers on the machines, the state of Rainan’s weakening body, and then looked at Angelo.
“If he really wants this… I think we can allow it. But you’ll have to be careful. And gentle.” He paused, then added, “Time is not on our side.”
Angelo only nodded, too full of emotion to speak. They both knew what this meant.
By dawn, Rainan was ready. He’d barely slept the night before, though he’d smiled more than usual. Nurses helped him dress in soft, loose clothes. A blanket was draped over his lap as he was wheeled out of the hospital room. He looked smaller in that chair, wrapped in warmth and silence, but his eyes followed the light coming through the windows, as if already reaching toward the sea.
Angelo drove slowly. The road to the coast was long and winding, passing through small towns and fields kissed by morning fog. Rainan slept through parts of it, his head leaning gently against the window. When he stirred, he would smile faintly at Angelo through the rearview mirror and then fall quiet again.
They arrived just before noon.
The beach was nearly empty, save for a few fishermen in the distance and the soft cry of seabirds overhead. The air smelled of salt and damp wood. It was the kind of place where time didn’t seem to move—where the sea did all the talking. A small ramp had already been set up, arranged by Lance’s friends. Angelo carefully wheeled Rainan down onto the sand, close enough to see the waves break but far enough that they wouldn’t reach his feet.
Rainan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to pull the entire sea into his chest.
“I missed this,” he whispered. “I missed everything.”
Angelo sat beside him on the sand, one hand wrapped gently around Rainan’s fingers. He didn’t say anything. There were no words that could match the stillness of that moment.
They stayed like that for hours. Watching. Listening.
A little later, Rainan spoke again—this time with a soft smile. “Do you remember when we were sixteen, and you dared me to dive from the pier even though I couldn’t swim?”
“You did it anyway,” Angelo chuckled, eyes wet. “Then nearly drowned.”
Rainan gave a breathy laugh. “You jumped in after me. Pulled me out. I think that was the first time I realized I loved you.”
The confession fell between them like a feather, not needing a response. But Angelo leaned in and kissed Rainan’s forehead, his hand resting gently on his shoulder.
“I’ve always loved you,” he said quietly. “Even before I knew how to say it.”
Rainan didn’t reply. He only turned his head to the sea again, watching the waves pull in and out.
By the time the sun began to lower, the others arrived. Not with fanfare, not with noise—just quiet footsteps on sand. Mikaela, Lance, Adrian, Rainan’s parents. They carried no expectations, only blankets and soft words. Clara ran toward Rainan and placed a drawing in his lap: a house beside the ocean with smiling suns and flowers that looked like stars.
“Is this for me?” Rainan asked, brushing her hair back gently.
“It’s your dream house,” she said. “You said you wanted to live near the beach.”
He smiled, holding the paper against his chest. “It’s perfect.”
As the sun turned gold and touched the edge of the horizon, Rainan asked Angelo for one last thing.
“Can you carry me to the water?”
Angelo didn’t hesitate. He stood, lifted Rainan carefully in his arms—he was so light now, lighter than ever—and stepped into the cool tide.
The water lapped at Rainan’s legs, and he shivered slightly, but his face glowed with contentment. The wind danced through his hair, and the waves sang softly beneath the silence.
“I’m not afraid,” Rainan whispered.
Angelo kissed the side of his head. “I’ll be here. Always.”
They stayed like that until the sun was gone, and the stars began to appear—one by one.