A wall thrown up. An impenetrable facade.
I understand it. We knew how this would end before it even started. We knew it was a path we couldn’t take… But we did it anyway.
I look away, stepping inside. Then the weight of everything I left behind hits me full and heavy in the chest.
The fire, the conversation with my father, the ongoing search for whoever’s leaving the notes:
It hits me like a tidal wave. I find myself stopping, Crew almost knocking into me.
“I’m not ready,” I admit.
His breath is a quiet rasp. “Olivia.”
“I know…” My eyes squeeze shut. “I know… I’m just not ready yet.”
He’s silent, watching me with eyes that burn with fleeting emotion. After a few moments, he nods once. “Let’s go for a drive.”
I’m surprised when he drops our bags by the door. He disappears into the room, and when he returns with a matte black helmet, I realize…
We’re not taking the car.
We make it to the parking garage in record time. His bike is parked on the third level, and at the question in my eyes, he unclips the helmet and steps close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of him. He slides it over my head, thumb sweeping my neck for a lingering moment
“I’m driving, right?” I tease, and he smirks as he flips the shade into place and strolls to his bike.
He pulls on his own helmet, straddling the bike and glancing over his shoulder as I cautiously approach. I climb on, unsure at first. The bike groans to life beneath us, roaring loudly as the engine hums, my blood with it.
“Hold onto me,” he says, and I wrap my arms around his middle as he pulls on his riding gloves.
He adjusts, but he reaches back last minute, gripping my thighs and drawing me flush against him. My heart races as he pulls my arms tighter around his waist, looking back through his helmet.
“Am I going to regret this?” I ask, but I feel his muscles ripple in a laugh beneath my hands.
The sound of the bike fills the garage. We make it outside just in time to see the fading sun paint the sky orange. Crew zooms onto the highway, the wind whipping through my clothes as we switch from lane to lane. It’s impossible not to watch as we race past every car.
The feeling is all too similar to falling at first.Fast, exhilarating, terrifying, dangerous. But then the city blurs out of focus behind us.
The road ahead softens with the colorful horizon- a mirage of cerulean blue and vivid orange. It’s easily one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. The wind is a sweet hum in my ears, the road smooth, the engine a steady sigh.
“What do you think?” Crew yells loudly enough that I can hear him.
I laugh as the sun sinks below the horizon further, the sky now a haze of blue and deepening purple.
“I think I love this!” I yell in answer, and even though I can’t see him smile, he gently squeezes one of my hands.
His body is warm despite the wind, and I allow myself to lean into him, pressing the cheek of my helmet against his back and watching the world pass us by.
Even if only for an hour more, there’s no responsibility, no obligation, no worries.
There’s just right now. I never thought I’d be a person who wanted to live in it. But as the sunlight fades away, I find myself clinging to whatever little I have with him.
It isn’t enough.
A part of me aches at the realization.
I’ve grieved what I’ve lost. But I’ve never grieved someone who isn’t truly gone.
The longer we drive, the more I realize maybe it’s because I’ve wanted him for a long time… and I grieve what we’ll never have.