Chapter 74 CARTER’S END
Alex
They sat in silence. The obituary between them. Carter’s face stared up from the newsprint. Younger. Happier. Before everything went wrong.
“How do you feel?” Elias asked finally.
“I don’t know. Sad? Relieved? Guilty for feeling relieved?”
“Me too. All of it at once.”
Alex read the obituary again. Looking for details. Finding none.
Carter Mitchell, 26, of Seattle, passed away on January 3rd. Beloved son. Memorial service to be held January 10th at Henderson Funeral Home.
No cause of death. No explanation. Just the facts. Gone.
“Do you think it was suicide?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe something else. An accident. An illness.”
“Should we find out?”
“Do you want to?”
Alex thought about it. “Part of me does. Needs to know. Needs closure.”
“And the other part?”
“Wants to let him rest. Stop making his death about us.”
“It’s not about us. But it affects us. We’re allowed to have feelings about it.”
Alex’s phone buzzed. Des.
Des: Did you see? About Carter?
Alex: Yeah. Just found out.
Des: How are you?
Alex: Confused. You?
Des: Same. It’s weird. Being glad someone’s dead.
Alex: I’m not glad.
Des: Aren’t you? Even a little?
Alex thought about it. Honest answer. “Maybe a little. Is that terrible?”
“No. It’s human. He made your life hell. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel.”
That night, Alex couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about Carter. About the harassment. The pain. The years of fighting.
All of it ending like this. Sudden, final, done.
“Are we going to the service?” Alex asked at 3 AM.
Elias stirred. “Do you want to?”
“I think we should, for closure, to really end it.”
“Okay. We’ll go.”
They flew to Seattle two days later. The service was small. Carter’s parents. A few friends. His therapist.
No Ashley. No ex-friends who’d helped with the harassment.
Just people who’d genuinely cared.
Elias and Alex sat in the back. Not wanting to intrude. Just observing. Bearing witness.
Carter’s father spoke. About his son’s struggles. His illness. His fight to get better.
“Carter was sick,” Robert Mitchell said. “Not evil. Not malicious. Just sick. And we failed him. His mother and I. We didn’t see it until too late. Didn’t get him the help he needed early enough.”
He paused. Looked directly at Elias and Alex.
“He wanted me to tell you he was sorry. Really sorry. For everything he put you through. He knew what he’d done was wrong. Spent his last months trying to make amends. Trying to be better.”
After, Carter’s mother approached them. “Thank you for coming. Carter would have appreciated it.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Elias said.
“Me too. But I’m also grateful. He found some peace at the end. That’s all a parent can hope for.”
“Can I ask what happened?” Alex asked carefully.
“Heart condition. Congenital. We didn’t know about it. He collapsed in his apartment. Was gone before the ambulance arrived.”
“So not suicide?”
“No. Though I think part of him was relieved. To not have to fight anymore. To finally rest.”
They stayed in Seattle that night. Got a hotel. Lay in bed processing.
“I thought I’d feel different,” Alex said. “When it was over. Really over. But I just feel empty.”
“Me too. Like we spent so long fighting him that now there’s nothing. Just space.”
“What do we fill it with?”
“Us. Our life. Our future.”
“Think we can?”
“I think we have to try.”
They flew home the next day. Back to their apartment. Back to their life.
But something felt different.
The shadow that had followed them for years was gone. Carter was gone. The harassment was done.
“We’re free,” Alex said.
“Finally.”
They spent January rebuilding. Focusing on school. Work. Each other. No more looking over shoulders. No more waiting for the next attack.
Just living? Normal, boring, perfect.
February fourteenth came again. Four years since the first letter. Four years since everything started.
“Four years,” Elias said over breakfast.
“Feels like a lifetime.”
“It’s been a journey. That’s for sure.”
“Do you regret any of it?”
“The Carter parts, yes. The US parts, never.”
“Good answer.”
That night, Elias pulled out a box. Small. Wrapped in red paper.
“What’s this?” Alex asked.
“Your anniversary present. Four years deserve something special.”
Inside was a key, simple, silver, on a keychain shaped like a heart.
“What’s it for?”
“A storage unit downtown, I rented it last week.”
“Why?”
“Because I saved everything. Every letter you wrote. Every note. Every piece of our story. And I want to keep it safe. All of it. For when we’re old and want to remember how this started.”
Alex’s eyes filled. “You saved everything?”
“Everything. Even the hard parts. Because it’s all part of us.”
“Can I see?”
They drove to the storage unit. Elias unlocked it. Inside was a single box. Carefully organized.
The six original letters. Still in their envelopes. The acceptance from the grad program. The restraining orders. The newspaper articles. The journal Carter had sent. Everything.
“This is our history,” Elias said. “Good and bad. All of it.”
Alex picked up the first letter. The one he’d sent four years ago. Heart-shaped paper. Nervous handwriting.
“I was so scared writing this,” Alex said.
“I was terrified reading it.”
“Worth it?”
“Every moment of terror. Every fight. Every hard decision. All of it is worth it.”
They left the storage unit. Drove home. Made dinner together. Talked about the future.
“Do you still want to get married?” Elias asked.
“Yes. Do you?”
“Yes. But I want to wait. Make sure we’re solid. Make sure we’re choosing it for the right reasons.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. Maybe this summer. Maybe next year. Whenever it feels right.”
“Okay. I can wait.”
March brought acceptance letters. Elias got into a local PhD program, full funding, starting fall.
“I can’t believe it,” Elias said.
“I can. You’re brilliant. They’re lucky to have you.”
“And you’re not worried? About me being in school again? The stress?”
“No. Because this time we’re choosing it together. No secrets. No surprises.”
April brought Alex’s dissertation defense date. Set for next spring. Everything on track.
“We’re doing it,” Alex said. “Actually finishing our degrees. Building careers. Being adults.”
“Terrifying.”
“Completely.”
May brought moving plans. Their lease was ending. Time to find something more permanent.
“What do you want?” Elias asked. “Apartment? House? Something else?”
“Something that feels like ours. Really ours. Not just a place we’re staying. A place we’re building.”
They found a small house. Two bedrooms. Yard. Room to grow.
“This is it,” Alex said when they walked through. “This is home.”
“You sure?”
“Completely.”
They moved in June. Boxes everywhere. Furniture to buy. A whole life to build.
But it felt right. Good. Theirs.
Summer passed in a blur of unpacking and painting and making the house home.
In August, Elias started his PhD program. Nervous but ready.
“How was day one?” Alex asked.
“Overwhelming. Good overwhelming. Like I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Yes, you could have. But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”
September brought their fourth anniversary of actually being together. Four years since that first coffee date. Since Alex stopped running.
“Four years,” Elias said. “Think we’ll make it to forty?”
“At least. Maybe fifty.”
“Ambitious.”
“We’ve survived this much. We can survive anything.”
October brought a surprise. An email from NYU. The program that had rejected Elias.
We wanted to reach out personally. Your spot is available for next fall if you’re still interested. We’d love to have you.
Elias showed Alex. “What do you think?”
“Do you want it?”
“Part of me does. But I’m happy here. With you. With this life. I don’t need to go anywhere.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely. This is where I want to be.”
Elias declined. Politely. Firmly. Without regret.
“No second thoughts?” Alex asked after he sent the email.
“None, I chose this, I choose you, every time.”
“Good. Because I choose you too.”
November brought Thanksgiving. Their house. Their first time hosting. Family everywhere, chaos, laughter, love.
“This is nice,” Katie said. “You two are hosting. Being adults. It’s weird but nice.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“You know what I mean. You’ve come so far. From the letters to now. It’s beautiful.”
“It is. We’re lucky.”
“You’re not lucky. You fought for this. That’s different.”
December brought wedding talk again. Real talk. Not just someday talk.
“Next summer?” Elias suggested.
“Yeah. Next summer. Let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“Really. We’ve waited long enough. Time to make it official.”
They set a date. August 15th. Same date they’d originally planned. One year later.
“Think we’ll actually make it this time?” Alex asked.
“I know we will. This time we’re ready.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we’ve survived everything. Carter. Ashley. The accident. The program. All of it. We can survive planning a wedding.”
“From your mouth to the universe’s ears.”
But on New Year’s Eve, as they kissed at midnight, Alex’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He almost didn’t answer.
But something made him.
“Hello?”
“Alex Lee?” A woman’s voice. Official.
“Yes?”
“This is about your father. He has been hospitalized. You need to come to Oregon immediately.“