Dressing for the part of telling Dylan how I felt was the easiest costume that I'd put together to date.

I dressed up as me.

There was no hiding behind an outfit, playing a part, being someone that I wasn't. I was going to be me.

Even though I still struggled with knowing who I was, I knew enough to know that I was a good friend, I was going to be a bomb older sister and if Dylan would have me, I'd be the most loyal partner that he could ever ask for.

The weather was warming up now but it wasn't hot enough to wear a sundress. So I wore a pair of long overalls with a loose knit underneath it and some docs. Cute, simple and me. I stepped out of the cab in front of the restaurant, inhaling a deep breath as I stared at the front of a place that had once been somewhat of a second home. I spent a ton of time here while Dylan was working and even though it had been just a few months since Christmas, it felt like so much longer.

I walked inside and familiarity surged through me, putting a fire under my steps which carried me around the tables and past the patrons. Not a lot had changed. In fact, nothing had changed. The aroma was delectable, the decor was warm, comforting and the staff smiled as I passed them waiting tables. Albeit, their smiles were laced with surprise. It was nice to know that my absence had been noticed.

My hair was down in loose waves, still a little damp from my shower earlier but I fluffed it as I approached the bar and slipped behind it to find the kitchen. I stood at the threshold and let my gaze wander over the entire room, deflating when I couldn't see him. He might have gone to the bathroom or he could be in the break room.

Before I could extend my search, Jo noticed my lingering and put down the knife she'd been using to fillet a piece of salmon. She smiled and wiped her hands on her apron as she approached me. "Stranger," she teased. "What's going on?"

"Uh not a lot. Is he here?"

Her brows pinched. "No he's looking at the new location."

She must have seen the confusion on my face.

"For the restaurant. He's looking to open a second Hot Plate in SoHo. He didn't mention it?"

I didn't answer her. That was something I should have known. But of course, I'd been so up my own ass with drama, that I didn't even know what was going on in my best friend's life right now. I felt ashamed.

"You alright, girl?" Jo asked.

I nodded and started moving backward. "Give him a message for me?" She nodded. "Tell him to go home between the lunch and dinner rush. Don't tell him I was here. Don't tell him it's about me. Just tell him to go home. Use force if needed."

She winked. Jo was not the sort of person that would oppose to getting her staunch on if need be. There was some sort of plan coming together in my head. A vision. I hadn't planned on doing anything extra but now that the plan to throw myself into his arms and tell him that I love him had been derailed, I figured I might as well make the most of it.

When I got to his apartment, I used the spare key, which hid under the fire extinguisher on the wall, and opened the door. Nothing much had changed but at the same time, a lot had changed. When I was here last, I'd received the phone call that mom was gone, something that I didn't want to dwell on at a time like this, but the point is, I hadn't had the chance to notice how different it looked without a trace of Charlie in it. 

It used to be so sterile. White walls, black polished floorboards, minimal decor, little to no colour. Now, there was character. The walls and floors were still black and white but there were blue couch cushions, various vases around the place that were brimming with beautiful flowers and the best part, the dozens of framed photos on the wall, a good portion of them, were him and I.

I stood in the living area and ran my fingers along the frames, feeling tears prick at my eyes when I saw Dylan's no hold back smile staring back at me. I'd missed him so much. More than I realised. It hit me so hard while I was here, enveloped in his presence and his scent, looking at memories that he cherished enough to enlarge and frame.

In one photo, we were at a festival, we were sitting in the grass, I had my back to his chest, sat in between his legs and his arms fell over my shoulder. We wore splitting grins but the best part about looking at this photo is knowing that it was genuine. We were so happy. We always were when we were together. I lowered my gaze, unable to believe that it had taken me so long to realise that my heart belongs to him and it always will.

Wiping at my nose, I turned around and figured that I should remember the reason that I came here and get started on the plan. But I had to smother a scream when I saw Brecken on the other side of the living room, leaning on the kitchen door frame.

"What the hell?! You scared the shit out of me."

He laughed and straightened up so that he could walk towards me. "You scared the shit out of me. I thought someone had broken in. What are you doing?"

"Making things right with the man that I love."

He stopped in front of me and narrowed his gaze. "I just don't feel that way about you, Bea."

I slapped his chest with the back of my hand. "What are you even doing here?"

"Slept over last night. I was about to clear out."

"Why did you sleep over? Is there something going on with you and Lizzy?"

"Na," he laughed, shaking his head. "No we're fine. I just hang out here quite a bit now. More than I ever have. I think Dylan's been pretty lonely since you and Charlie dropped off."

I inhaled a sharp breath, shame searing through me.

"He invites me over all the time to have a couple of beers and listen to music. But he puts on these old fucking records and spends the entire song going 'listen to this bit Breck, listen to the words.' And then he proceeds to break it down and explain the lyrics and the meaning and the artist's mind frame when writing the song. It kills it. It does. He's a fucking weird kid."

My hand was clutching my heart now and I felt a fresh set of tears tickle my cheek.

"What?" He stared at me.

"You complain like he's boring you with his love of music," I sobbed, vision blurring. "That's one of my favourite things in the world. He loves his music so much. Shut your mouth, Brecken."

He pulled his chin back, eyes wide. "Sheesh. Alright. My bad."

I could picture my best friend sitting on the floor beside his stereo, which now that I looked at, had his record player, the one that I gave him for Christmas, beside it. I could visualise him with a beer in hand, his head bopping and his smile beaming as he showed me a new— old, but new to us— song. I could see the way that he'd hum with excitement at certain lyrics and gesture for me to listen close. I could hear his voice when he said, 'see, isn't that beautiful and raw. So much soul went into that verse. You can hear it in their voice.'

"So how was your night in the cells?" Brecken asked, no doubt wanting to distract me from falling down a deep hole of despair, which is where I was headed if I kept on picturing how sweet Dylan was whenever he so much as breathed.

I hadn't seen Breck since I was arrested for pushing that asshole off the bridge but I'd sent him a brief text to let him know that I was released and no charges were pressed. I'd also mentioned that Phoenix had dropped me off at home afterwards and sort of hasn't left since.

"Yeah it was fine," I shrugged and started to toe off my docs. "Kind of cold. Smelt a bit weird. Boring as hell. But I survived."

He nodded and folded his arms. "So who's this Phoenix dude? Is he the one Dylan mentioned? The one that was with you when you walked into the Hot Plate, wasted and started singing?"

"Yeah. That's him." A smile lifted my lips when I semi remembered the drunk serenade. My first attempt at a confession. What a mess. It'll be a good story though.

"Are you like, seeing him?"

I scoffed. "Yeah. And I'm also here to tell Dylan that I'm in love with him. Thought it'd be best to keep my options open."

"Solid."

"You're an idiot. No. We went on a weird sort of date. I was drunk and rude and then I asked him to give me a ride to tell another man that I love him."

"This dude sounds like a saint if he bailed you out of jail and gave you a ride home after all of that."

"You have no idea," I exhaled and tousled my hair over my shoulder. "He's like the perfect man. You should see him. And he has a deaf daughter. They sign each other. He's a wet dream."

Brecken pouted his lips into a weird smoulder. "Damn. Even I'm interested. He sounds delicious."

I laughed. "He's super into Megan."

"Can't blame him for that. Does he not care that she's pregnant with Kevin's spawn?"

I shook my head, informing the fact that I'm also Kevin's spawn. "Nope. He doesn't. That's how much of a saint he is."

Brecken laughed, twisting on his heel. "Your life is something else, Bea." He started to head towards the door but stopped and looked over at me. "I'll get going but I'm really glad you're doing this. It's about damn time, girl."

"I know," I ran my hands down my face with exasperation. "Let's hope I'm not too late."

"Well," Breck winced. "He is dating someone."

My stomach dropped.

"I'm kidding."

"Get the fuck out of my future apartment, dick," I pointed at the door. My heart was hammering inside of my chest at the thought of having to fight off another girl to win my man. Because I wouldn't be giving up this time. Or ever again.

It was two in the afternoon when I heard the door being unlocked. I was standing between the coffee table and the couch, folding laundry while the television was set on some weird show about these two brothers that hunted demons or something. It was a bit gross in some parts but the guys were cute.

Mentally preparing to see him again, I inhaled a deep breath and watched as Dylan emerged from the entry way. He was wearing a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, fitted slacks and his hair was a hint longer, curling around his ears. It sat in a tidy mess and my breath caught at the sight of him.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me folding one of his shirts. Which, no longer held my attention so it sort of ended up in a ball but I dropped it onto the pile and then smiled at him, a full smile. I'd never felt more at home than when he was near me.

"Hey, how was work?" I rounded the sofa and started for the kitchen. "I know your breaks are short so I have lunch sorted. It's just leftovers because I can't cook for shit but this smells so good. I hope it hasn't been in the fridge too long."

Dylan's kitchen was as gorgeous as one would expect it to be. Stone surfaces with charcoal cupboards and a big centre island with pots and pans hanging above it. The appliances were modern, sleek and dark as well. I leaned over in front of the oven and opened it to find some sort of casserole dish that had been sitting in the fridge. It didn't look old and it wasn't like Dylan to have expired food anyway.

I could sense him before I heard him behind me. It was somewhat of a relief to know that I was still so attune to him that I could feel his presence reaching out and pulling me close. I wanted nothing more than to be in his hold again. It'd been just under one month since I had seen him last but it felt like an entire lifetime. And not a lifetime lived, but one that had been wasted, spent with regret and sorrow as I looked back on what had been missed.

"What's going on?" He said and his voice made me short of breath. I turned around, mittened hands holding the dish as I smiled.

"I'm putting myself back into your life, after I took myself out of it."

I knew this man better than I knew me, but still, his expression was hard to read. He watched me as he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. "So what's for lunch?"

"Uh," I peered down at the dish. "There's pasta in here. I know that for sure."

He pursed his lips and lowered his head, fighting a smile.

Inhaling a deep breath, I set the dish down on the counter top and started pulling the oven mitts off my hands. "I love you."

He flinched, his lips parting, but not with surprise. It was more as if what he'd just heard, relieved him. As if he had been waiting with his breath held and now he could breathe again. And I felt the same relief having finally gotten the confession off my chest, the weight was gone, allowing my lungs to move again. But I had more to add.

"When Charlie told me how upset she was about our friendship, I thought that the right thing to do was step back and move on," I said, slowly walking toward him, steps unstable, voice shaken. Everything that I had been thinking was about to become word vomit and I hoped that it would make sense. "And I don't regret that. I would never want to come between a relationship. But then when it was over between you two, I'd worked myself up into this frenzied state, thinking that I needed to gain some independence. Again, I don't think that's a bad thing. But I kept pushing and pushing."

I stood in front of him now and I could see the apples of his cheeks quivering as he bit down on his lip and furrowed his brows.

"I was so convinced that I needed to be okay on my own. That I shouldn't lean on you. I thought that I needed to get through all of my problems without the help of my best friend. I thought that I couldn't tell you how I felt until my life was in order. Which is stupid because no one is ever one hundred percent problem free. There'll always be something going on, even if it is small and I understand now that it's okay to have someone to lean on. I've been a terrible friend-"

"What?" Dylan sounded breathless as he straightened up and cupped my face, his touch almost made me crumble. His thumbs swiped at the tears streamlining down my cheeks. "You're not a terrible friend, Bea."

"I am," I sobbed, clutching his arms, fearful that I would blink and he would be gone. "I didn't even know about the SoHo restaurant plans. I have no idea what's been going on with you because my head has been so far up my own ass with my own shit-"

"Bea," he touched his forehead to mine and we shared a breath, helping each other through this mess of a confession that was not going as smooth as I had planned. "Your own shit was a big deal. Your mom died. Kevin came clean about your birth mom. Megan is pregnant with your sister. Those are all life changing, Bea. I know that if something cataclysmic was going on with me, you'd have been there. There's nothing wrong with taking turns at being the supporter and the supported."

"You've been keeping tabs," I stammered, wanting to wipe my face but not wanting his hold to drop. "I didn't tell you all of that."

He leaned back a little bit so that our gazes could meet. "I said that I would give you space to work through things, but I couldn't not know what was going on. It felt unnatural. I hope you don't mind."

I shook my head and blinked away the blur so that I could see him, all of him, right there in front of me.  "I think I was scared, Dyl," I whispered, tasting salt on my lips. "I was finding whatever excuse I could to push you away because I've never loved someone as much as I love you and I was terrified that I would ruin it."

"You couldn't ruin us."

My heart accelerated so fast that it knocked the wind out of me. "Happiness runs from me, Dylan."

"I won't let it."

He didn't say another word, instead, he leaned in, hands still cupping my face and kissed me so hard that it hurt but only for a moment and then it became the all consuming, earth shattering moment that I had been anticipating. It was better than I had been anticipating. It was a reunion between the sun and the stars, bursting with fire and spinning the earth beneath me. His lips moved with mine, our bodies were so close that we were one.

Our lips parted in slow, drawn out kisses, we were breathless and panting, his thumb moved across my jaw. "I love you too, Bea. I have for so damn long and I think I was scared too. I was just as scared to lose you, Bea. I needed you in my life, in whatever form that looked like. I needed you. I need you."

We kissed again, it started off slow and it traveled from my lips down to my toes and it felt as though it could lift me straight off the ground. Now that we'd made it this far, I would hold onto it and no matter what came at me or at us, my feet were planted, firm, right here with him, where I belonged.

Quickly, before I realised what was happening, he took the chain on my neck and slipped it over my head. With careful fingers, he slid the Vegas ring off the chain and got down on one knee before me.

"This time, we're sober," he says and I can barely see him through tear drenched eyes. "You love me and I love you. This is the most real thing I've ever felt and it wouldn't matter if we dated for two weeks or two years, I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Bea, marry me?"

"You're the only man that will ever be a constant in my life, for the rest of my life." I cry and he slips the plastic, faded ring onto my finger, the one I've been keeping with me from the moment I got it.

He stands up and wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me straight onto the kitchen island and slipping himself between my legs. We kiss, his silk hair beneath my finger tips, my hips beneath his. My world, right there in my arms.