"I can either come with you or wait for you in the car. Whatever you prefer," Arthur says as he brings the car to a stop.

It is the beginning of July, a year later. I graduated from Caltech only a few weeks ago. Not with honors, but with a decent GPA. I have a few interviews lined up for junior engineer positions in aerospace companies. I will start preparing for them once I am back from this surprise graduation trip Arthur organized for me.

Royal Tunbridge Wells is a pretty little town in the south-east of England. Its well-kept green spaces and the expensive cars driving on its roads make it abundantly clear that this is the wealthiest part of the country. We are not here for tourism, though.

When we took a direct plane from LAX to London, I thought Arthur wanted to show me the British capital, what with Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, Big Ben, and all those pretty things I have only seen in pictures. I was excited about it, the only countries I've been to are Argentina, because I was born there, and the US, which I have not left since I moved there with my parents.

But we did not check into a hotel with a view of Hyde Park. We rented a car at the airport, and we drove away from the capital. When the road signs started indicating how far was Royal Tunbridge Wells, also called just Tunbridge Wells apparently, what he had planned all along became clear as day.

"I'm not sure I have the strength to do it," I said shortly after realizing.

"I'm sure it's going to be hard, but I'm also sure you can do it, and you need to do it. For yourself. For him."

A moment passed in silence while I considered his words and resolved myself to do it. He was right. I have longed for years to see Josh's grave. It probably wouldn't do much but that is the closure I have never had. The last goodbye.

Since the moment I decided to do it, my mood has been oscillating between tears, anxiety, and excitement. I am not sure what to feel, so I am feeling everything at once.

I look up at the church-like stone building that makes up the entrance of the Tunbridge Wells Cemetery. It has an arch cut out for hearses to drive into the lot, but we are parked just outside.

"I'll go on my own," I reply to his offer with determination. And then I add, "Come and join me in twenty minutes?"

"Of course." He slips a piece of paper in my hand. "These are the instructions to find his grave."

He kisses my lips briefly and tells me to be strong.

I brace myself, grab the bouquet of black roses we bought on our way there, and exit the car. I walk underneath the arch and unfold the piece of paper Arthur gave me. The instructions are straightforward and, in just a couple minutes, I reach the last resting place of the love of my life. Yes, Josh is still the love of my life. I have no doubt that, should we not have had the accident, I would have never met Arthur and I would be happily married and mother to a beautiful AJ, who'd have a sex and a real name.

But Josh is also dead. I didn't mean to find someone else to love, and yet I did, in the person of Arthur Edward Dullac. To be pronounced the French way, i.e. 'due-lack', and not 'dull-ek.' It took us a full year of dating before he eventually corrected my pronunciation.

I love Arthur, and he loves me, but he knows that I love Josh, that I always will. Arthur will forever be my second love, and he's okay with it. A second love doesn't have to erase the first one, and it can be just as good. We all come with emotional baggage and a love history. Mine is a deceased soulmate, his is a depressed ex-wife who wanted a child more than anything.

'Joshua Isaac Paxton' the headstone reads right before his birth and death years. 'Beloved son, brother, and boyfriend.'

He was my fiancé and a father-to-be, I think. But his parents didn't know that when they buried him, so I don't fault them. I am flattered enough that they immortalized our relationship in the marble.

I bend over to place the bouquet at the foot of the tombstone. The grass is wet, because it's the freaking UK and everything is always wet, even in the summer. I don't realize immediately the impact that this moment has on me. I am sad, obviously, but at first it feels like a regular kind of sad at first, like I am each time I think of him.

Then it hits me all at once and I fall to my knees. This is it. I am currently standing – kneeling – above the body of the man I once swore to spend the rest of my life with. I never got to say goodbye, and I've never been able to pay his grave a visit. Until now.

I get sick from all those emotions, but I will my stomach to stay put. I'll be damned if I puke on Josh's grave.

I'm not religious, although I've been raised in Catholicism, but I find myself reciting a prayer I had to learn when I attended catechism, back in Argentina. Josh would laugh so hard if he heard me. Not that he despised religion, but he knew I did. He would call me crazy or wonder whether I'd been abducted by aliens and lobotomized.

I laugh to myself at that last thought. Crazy. He would totally call me crazy.

I let myself weep for a minute. If there is a place and a time where I can do so unashamedly, it's here and now. When the sobs space up enough until they completely fade, I start talking. And I don't stop until I am done.

I tell him everything. I start with the accident, my coma, the name I gave our baby, the heart-wrenching first year without him, my meet-up with Sasha on his death anniversary and how that talk was a pivotal moment in my life. I tell him all about Cedric but I skim over my almost three-year-long hoe phase. I will not lie to him, but he doesn't need to know the details of my fucking a small percentage of LA's demographic. Then I realize I never came out to him. So I come out. I tell him I'm bi, and that the person who's made me realize that is his very sister. Maybe it's not news to him. He never felt truly threatened, but he often made jokes about me and Sash ending up together if we somehow broke up.

Then I talk about Arthur. I tell him every single detail about our story, because he deserves to know with whom he's sharing that space in my heart. I can imagine him laughing so hard he'd crack a rib when I tell him about my misstep with Victor. If it had happened when he was alive and we were not together, he probably would have high-fived me.

After this digression, I go back to the main story, which is how I fell in love with Arthur. I explain the guilt, the fear, the anxiety, the feeling that I was betraying him, and how unable I have been to stop it despite all that. I tell him I hope he doesn't blame me for loving someone else.

"He's never going to be you," I say, "but he loves me just as much as you did. I don't know if you two would get along. You would probably call him a stuck-up and he would call you a punk. You'd hate his starched shirts just as much as he'd hate your painted nails and your tattoos." I laugh again. Yeah, they totally wouldn't get along.

Just as I think that, I see Arthur's silhouette coming up my way. My twenty minutes are up.

"Well, here he is. You guys might be very different, but I swear to you, he treats me well and he makes me happy. I think you would want that. You loved me enough to want that for me after your passing. I'm sure of it now."

As I finish my sentence, Arthur is only a few steps away from me.

"Do you need a few more minutes?" He asks.

While I talked to Josh, I changed position and I am now sitting on the grave, my back against the headstone.

"No. I've just finished." I stand up and rub my hands against my legs. "Would you find it silly if I wanted to introduce you to each other?"

He takes the few steps that separate us and stands next to me, facing the grave. He does not take my hand nor put his arm around me. He knows I'd feel uncomfortable doing that in front of Josh.

"Not at all. I'm looking forward to it."

I almost cry some more. Maybe he thinks it's silly. Hell, I think it's silly. But I feel like I need to do it, so he does it too without batting an eye.

"Well, you already know everything about him, and I've just told him everything about you. You basically know each other already." I marked a pause. "Arthur, this is Josh," I point at the grave, "my first love, my soulmate, and the man of all my firsts. Josh, this is Arthur. My second love, the man who made me love again, my salvation."

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Josh," Arthur says to the grave. "I've heard a lot about you, and I know how much you mean to Abril. I want you to know that she's in good hands with me. I'll take care of her and I'll make her happy. That's a promise."

We stay a few minutes in silence, paying our final respects, before heading back to the car.

Once in the vehicle, I cry all that I have left to cry. Then the tears stop. And for the first time in five years, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel at peace.

* * *

We stay a few more days in Tunbridge Wells. It's a stunning city and our hotel is particularly nice. I do not go back to the cemetery but, upon Arthur's insistence, we pay a visit to Josh's parents. I have not seen them since before the accident, it will be awkward and heart-breaking.

They knew we were coming, Arthur told them when he organized the trip, so they don't look too surprised to see us, and they welcome us with open arms. They serve us tea, and scones, and we inevitably talk about Josh. I apologize for not reaching out, they say they understand. I tell them about the engagement and the baby, they say they know already. Sasha told them. And when there's not much left to say, we cry. We cry for a long time, and then it's time to leave.

They thank me for coming. It feels sincere. They almost beg me to keep in touch, and I promise I will. I intend to keep that promise. They almost became my in-laws and it's not like I can count on Arthur's parents to become secondary parental figures for me.

We eventually leave Tunbridge Wells and drive back to London. This time, we do check into a hotel and stay for a few days.

"You didn't really think I would bring you all the way to England and not show you London?" Arthur asks, incredulous.

I'm embarrassed when I answer that it's totally what I thought. He laughs.

We visit everything we can possibly visit, buy the most stupid souvenirs on Oxford Street, and spend an ungodly amount of money on a dress from Harrods. It's a gold princess dress that I tried on for fun. Naturally, Arthur just has to buy it.

"You should see the smile on your face," is his justification.

"My face looks way less happy when it sees the price tag. It costs ten grand!"

"Meh, that's pocket money."

I glare at him. He laughs and hands his credit card to the salesperson.

"I've just promised Josh I'll make you happy. Just let me," he snarked. I groaned.

For no additional charge, he has the store send the dress to his house in LA. You don't just put such a piece of art in a suitcase.

Then it's the end of the trip. We fly back to LA and I manage to sleep most of the flight. I was too nervous on the way there.

We get our luggage from baggage claim, Arthur insists on taking both big suitcases while I just carry my purse and his laptop bag. We make it to the parking garage, where he parked his Porsche more than a week ago. He fishes the key out of his pocket and loads all the bags in the trunk and on the backseat. Those sports cars really do not have much storage space.

"You're much more rested than I am," he says. He barely slept on the plane. "Do you mind driving?"

"Sure."

He throws me the keys that I catch mid-air. I open the driver's door and sit behind the wheel. The engine purrs beautifully when I turn it on.

We put our seatbelts on, I do some final checks in the mirrors, and I drive us home.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N: Aaaaaaand scene!

This is officially the end of this book, this brings a little tear to my eye, not gonna lie. Thanks to those of you who read it, and thanks to my friends who supported me in this adventure. This book is quite literally my life project. I started it more than ten years ago, as a French fanfiction. I've gone through peaks and dips in motivation while writing it, and now it's over. I am proud of what this project has become, and mostly I am proud I finally managed to finish it.

I've recently joined a book club here on Wattpad (PrettyInPunkBC) and I am getting very useful feedback on my writing, so I'll be around making edits where edits are due. But apart from that, I'm afraid it's the end of my writing adventure for now. At the moment, I have to focus on a waaaaay less fun kind of writing, i.e. my PhD thesis.

Once that's all done and dusted, I want to write something else. My current plan is a university sports romance set in Cambridge, UK, and SHE's the athlete. There'll be romance obviously, but as you might have gathered, I don't do cute, fluffy romance. There'll be a lot of inner turmoil, with some insights on what it is to study at the University of Cambridge, to play for a team where you're not the best player, therefore your spot is always endangered, to juggle between sports and studies (and romance), etc. I have plenty of ideas and I more or less have an outline in my head, so watch this space if that sounds interesting to you.

Once again, thank you for reading this book. And for one final time: please vote and comment, it helps us writers get visibility on this website :)

Love,
Charlie.