I’M STANDING IN FRONT of Jace, Sophie, and the rest of the world... totally forgotten.

My mouth is dry, and my heart pounds, like we’re back in the fray and I’m pulling his corpse through the thick, urging him to stay with me.

“Hey there, Burns.” Jace smiles and something floods through me. Relief, maybe. I’m not crazy. I was never crazy. Jace is here, standing right fucking in front me. And he’s okay.

“I thought I was crazy, Radar.” We use the familiar nicknames, born of watching M*A*S*H* and playing soldiers.

“You don’t know how damn hard it was to get through to you.”

“But you’re real.”

“I’m dead, Spence. I need you to know that I don’t blame you. I know you did everything you could. I know you dragged my ass as far as possible. You got to let go, man.”

“I don’t like goodbyes.”

“It’s not a goodbye forever. For now. It’s closure. And you need to move the fuck on, Spence. Find a girl, raise a family.”

“I thought closure was supposed to make you feel better.” The modified line from M*A*S*H* feels right. It’s our kind of goodbye.

“No, it’s supposed to make you feel nothing.” Jace reaches his hand out, taking my queue and continuing the M*A*S*H* exchange. I don’t shake his hand. It’s not good enough. Instead, I walk the space between us and I hug him.

“I love you, brother. I don’t want to do life without you.”

“Too damn bad. You got to live it for the both of us.” Jace pats my back. “Walk it right. Besides, that white light looks like a vacation. I could use one of those. I’ve been here too long.”

“You deserve one of those.” We pull apart, and I feel empty. Like nothingness. But it’s the good kind, when the world is too much and you need quietude for a while.

I wasn’t crazy. I’m not crazy. Maybe I’ve never been.

Jace walks away from me, strolls towards the light that still glows in the room, whistling the M*A*S*H* theme, and it jerks on my heart strings so much that I wish he could come back so I could punch him in the face for moving me to tears.

Marie is there, my delusion made real, near the light also. I see Jace’s head bob slightly as he nods at her. And then he looks at me, one last time, salutes, and then disappears in a rush of paleness.

Marie reaches a hand out and touches the glow. I see her pushing, pressing with all of her might, but the light will not give her entrance as it did for Jace and the others.

A honk sounds outside the house. “Thank, God.” A voice expels. It’s Sophie, standing in the front foyer near the door. She doesn’t even glance back at me as she rushes out of the house, slamming the door behind her. It makes me flinch.

The truck containing Sophie launching itself away from me, from this place, is like the final note of what should be a really depressing aria. But I don’t care, because I’m not alone. Not alone and not crazy. And this is beautiful to me.

“Marie.” My voice is ragged.

She smiles, sad and happy all mixed up. “I guess I’m not leaving quite yet.” She glances back at the glowing light that is slowly fading away. “Not my time.”

“I can’t say I’m sad about that,” I say, closing the gap between us. “You’re real.”

“I told you I was.” Another smile curves her mouth as she speaks.

“Yeah, you did.” I run my fingers through my hair nervously. I’ve kissed her, felt her body against my own, but now I know for certain that she exists and that I’m sane. It’s different now. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you and then I want to know,” I motion about the room, at the emptiness of it, “what in the world this was all about.”

“Kiss me, and I’ll tell you everything,” she breathes out, heat and promise in her voice.

When I kiss her, it is different than it once was. I’m not fighting with myself, wondering if she’s all in my head. I snake my tongue across her lower lip, work my way into her mouth. She kisses me back, our tongues dancing. My heart is still beating, hard, and I go with the rhythm of it. “God, you feel good.”

“Mmmm,” she murmurs, caught up in our embrace. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you.” I say. I mean it, in my own way. I love that she’s been part of the process of freeing me from my ghosts, putting distance between me and my past. I love the feel of her, how she made me feel like a man—even before I met Sophie. She’d been good for my ego, my confidence. “What happens now?”

“I don’t know.” She studies her hands. “Something isn’t finished.” She looks up at me, and her eyes stare into my soul. 

Her gaze hits me like a ton of bricks, so hard that I stagger back. I think she can see everything, but none of it scares her. Her skin is pink, and her hair is bright. Somehow, life refilled her. She’s no longer gray, and I’m drawn to her.

The pull is so strong that I have to grit my teeth. She’s not alive, but we’re in our own world, apart from reality, tucked away in a place between what was and what is and what’s coming.

“I...” I want to tell her everything that’s in my heart, but the words die on my lips.

She tips up on her toes and peers out one of the dirty windows. “I haven’t been outside in ages.” And then her heels are back on the floor.

I touch her shoulder, and she takes a deep breath. The swell of her breasts press against the bodice of her dress. I let my hand slide down her arm to her fingers. She watches my hand as I watch her face. She bites her bottom lip, and my heartbeat thunders in my ears. She’s warm to the touch, and I want more of her. “It’s a full moon,” I say. “One of the roof guys told me that the moon spills magic on nights when it’s full.”

She laughs. “You haven’t seen enough magic to last a lifetime?”

“I think the stars would like to see you.” It’s the only thing I come up with, but it’s damn cheesy, and I clear my throat to cover my embarrassment. Who knew I was a sucker for fucking romance? Maybe she won’t notice how bad I am at this. I suck at being with real people.

She spins toward me and tilts her head. “What happens if I fade away in the moonlight?”

“I don’t know.” My words sound loud in the house. I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t imagine this house without her touch.

She’s quiet for long moments as tears well in her eyes and then spill over her cheeks. “When I’m gone, you have to keep living, Spencer. You have to promise.”

She’s worrying about me, wrestling with concern about my welfare. It’s beautiful. I’m barely breathing. It’s like the half-second before the explosion. Lifetimes can be lived in that space. I don’t know what the hereafter is waiting for, but I’m glad she’s here with me. I’ll be broken when she’s gone, but happier that she is mine, even if only for a moment. “I promise,” I whisper.

She loops her arm in mine. “Take me to see the stars.”