I think this book nearly broke me and I’m not even mad about it. From start to finish, the emotion in this one is intense. Yes, it’s angsty, but not in the way you’d think with a love triangle. Most of the angst in this one comes from the devastating reality that Harper is losing her mom, and the heartbreaking helplessness she feels about being powerless to prevent it.
Skye has always had this beautiful, almost magical way with words. She can weave even the most abject heartbreak and give it its own beauty.
And I think the message is a really beautiful one in itself. Because death is hard; the hardest thing for those left behind. But it’s a freedom for those who leave, and it’s the most inevitable, the most natural completion to life. So even though I bawled my eyes out; for Harper, for her mom, for everyone else left reeling, there was also this amazing sense of calm peace because the hardest part - waiting, watching - was over. And although we know grief is never easy, having closure helps.
And although Harper always knew she had love around her, having it displayed so primally at a time that she needed it most was its own transition into how her new family will look in a future where both her parents are gone.
I loved all of it. It tore everything inside me to shreds, but sometimes we need this reminder of our own humanity. That even our fictional heroes are not perfect examples of how to cope. Life is messy and complicated, it doesn’t play by the rules, and it reserves the right to turn everything on its head on a whim.
This was equally true of the two men in Harper’s life: Christopher and Sutton. I’ve been #TeamChristopher since the beginning. There was such a sense of inevitability about the two of them since way back in Avery’s story. So the introduction of Sutton in Survival was unexpected and, at first, unwelcome. After that unconventional storyline combusted, the three picked it back up six months later, but with the rules thrown out. Most of their interactions were centred in pain. Harper’s; Sutton’s; Christopher’s. Their interactions seemed laced with so much regret for the past, so many mistakes made, and no clear way forward. Shocking revelations emerged which only served to create more questions and more confusing confrontations, because they spoke best with their bodies, but when that was over, none of them seemed to know what to say or how to react.
I couldn’t have begun to guess how this book would play out. Harper could have ended up with either man, both men, or no men. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, but the romantic in me recognises the romantic in Skye and I trusted her not to leave us hanging.
This conclusion was intense, profound, gripping and melancholy. But it was so much more than that. It gave us hope, a promise of new beginnings and bright futures. It tore me down and rebuilt me, the pieces a little irrevocably altered, but ultimately satisfied. The best kind of angst always feels good even when you don’t want it to.