Begin Again | on hold

forty

"Oh." Martha's consternation unfolds, blossoming into a bright smile. "Good. I'm glad. That's all we have ever wanted for you," she says, glancing at her wife with a soft shared smile, one of those wordless expressions couples find after decades together.

The food is incredible. The weather's beautiful. Sunny's heart rate is as low and steady as it has been in a while, when she closes her eyes and lets the sun wash her cheeks in its glow as Martha brings out pudding. Her famous lemon drizzle cake, with fresh clotted cream ice cream from the farm down the road. Sunny devours two thick wedges of the light, fluffy sponge with that tangy citrus sugar crust, sweet ice cream dribbling down her chin until Viv reaches out and swipes it away with the tip of her finger.

"You mucky pup," she says with an affectionate eye roll before she leans in and presses her tea-warmed lips to Sunny's.

Sylvia lets out a contented sigh. "I'm so glad you two worked things out," she says, her knees crossed and her hands folded over her stomach, the late evening sun bouncing off her high cheekbones and the shine of her hair.

"Me too," Viv says. Those rich brown eyes bore into Sunny, right into her soul, as she says, "I'm not sure I could live without you, Sun."

"You'd have to take a vitamin D supplement," Sunny jokes, trying not to let on how deep those words have wormed their way into her chest, inflating her lungs and flooding through her veins. Dropping the levity for a moment, once she has polished off every last crumb of cake and every last drop of ice cream with the help of her finger, she adds, "I don't know where I'd be without you."

Oh, how true those words are.

She really doesn't know. Where would she be without Viv? In another life, quite literally. A life where she didn't make that wish, one where she had to live through every minute for herself. Maybe they still would have met; maybe they would still be together. But it wouldn't be the same. They wouldn't be here, not like this – they wouldn't have had this overwhelming obstacle to scramble over. They wouldn't have clambered over the seemingly insurmountable barrier that is the gap in Sunny's memory.

Martha returns to the kitchen to make teas and coffees. Sylvia goes with her to give her a hand, giving Sunny and Viv a moment alone together. It amazes Sunny how no amount of time alone with Viv is too much. When they first met – at least, the first time she remembers meeting – the thought of even ten minutes alone together was enough to send her into a cold sweat but now, only a few short weeks later, it's natural. It's right.

A gentle breeze rolls through the trees, caressing each leaf and brushing its fingers through the long hair of the three cats until their fluffy coats stand on end, waving in the air as though they've been electrocuted

"Do you think you'll ever tell them?" Viv asks. Sunny opens her eyes and sits up.

"Huh?"

"Your parents. You reckon you'll ever tell them about the black hole?" She holds her curls out of her face with one hand, the sun shining through each ringlet and brightening the already lively pink. Each of her freckles seems golden in this light, and Sunny thinks now I get why it's called golden hour.

"I don't know." She lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "At this point, I don't think I need to? Like, it's a weird thing that happened and there'll be places I slip up 'cause I'm never going to know everything that happened in those fourteen months," she says, "but I've reached a good place."

Viv's lips twitch into a beautiful smile as she murmurs, "You've come a long way."

"Thanks to you." Of course, Viv hasn't been Sunny's only rock – she is forever indebted to Delilah and Ravi and Fraser and Celeste and Astrid (and even, to some degree, Fenfen) – but she is at the heart of all of this. Her unwavering love and support and belief has been the lifeboat bobbing on a choppy ocean in the midst of a storm.