Page 23 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

I shrug. “I realized I don’t really need one, and it’s one more thing I can do to help the environment.”

Sam hums. “So, what did you tell Lisa?”

“I said we were eating breakfast, and I’d be back in a little while.” My heart sinks as I say the words. Leaving Sam is inevitable, but saying it out loud makes it real, and I’m not ready to let him go.

He must feel it too, because he doesn’t say anything more as he watches his fingers pick at imaginary lint on the blanket.

We sit in heavy silence for several minutes, both filling our mouths with either food or drink as a means of avoiding speaking. Neither of us wants to address the humongous elephant in the room. You know, the one that’ll eventually step between us.

When Sam swallows the last of his bagel, he picks up his coffee cup and twirls it on his thigh. “Okay, Brynn. Instead of sitting here in silent tension, we should talk about…you know.”

“About how eventually we’re going to have to leave this bed, and this hotel, and drive back to our respective homes without each other?”

“Yeah.” His voice shakes.

I take a deep breath as I blink away the tears forming. “What do we need to say? We both knew this”?I wave my hand between us?“had an expiration. We’ve just hit our time limit, and now we have to face the music.”

“It’s such a sad song, though.”

A tear breaks free and slides down my cheek. I feel silly for being this emotional over a man I just met. But when Sam wipes it away and cups my cheek, the embarrassment subsides. This feels too right to wave off. I cover his hand with mine and nuzzle into his palm.

We don’t say anything more about the inevitable. What could we say? We both knew it was coming, and there was nothing we could do about it. Also, we both seem to understand there’s not a future here. We haven’t officially said we’re not going to see each other again, but there’s an unspoken conversation happening, and the theme is “this is the end.”

But instead of wallowing in our sadness, we fill our last moments together with light-hearted topics such as our mediocre breakfast, the horrible smell of the hotel, and the general discomfort of the mattress. Our laughter lifts the mood. It distracts us from the knowledge of our looming deadline.

Then, the Mud Down gets brought up.

“It was a great race,” Sam says cheerfully. “I can’t wait to do it again next year.”

A hollowness engulfs me at the idea of the Mud Down being another year away. I’m always a little sad when this weekend is over, but now I’m losing Sam, too. The idea of a long-distance relationship briefly pops into my mind. Wyoming isn’t that far away from Greeley. It could work.

But after the devastating story he told last night, I know long-distance isn’t something he’d go for. Besides, I’ve already lied about where I live, so I’d be backtracking on what I’ve told him. It would make me a jerk. I don’t want to end our time together by apologizing for being dishonest.

“I don’t want it to end,” I say through more tears.

Sam gathers me to his chest, running his hand down my hair, tugging gently on one of my braids. “Me neither. I’d stay here with you forever if I could, but we can’t stop time.”

I glance at the clock. It’s 8:47 a.m. “When is checkout?”

“Um, ten-thirty, I think. Why?”

“What would you say to us making the last hour and a half we have together really count?” I bob my eyebrows.

A mischievous grin takes over Sam’s face. “You’re the perfect woman, Brynn Erlenmeyer.”

***

Standing in the parking lot and sulking, I sag against Sam’s chest as he holds me tight. We’ve been loitering here a good five minutes while Walt waits in the running car behind us. I’m surprised he hasn’t honked yet.

Sam finally tucks his knuckle under my chin, lifting my head up. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“How?” I choke out.

He shrugs, grimacing. “I don’t know, but you’ll see. Everything will work out. We’ll be all right.”

I snort, swiping at my nose. “You’re placating me, now.”

“Yeah, well, what else can I do?”

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