Page 159 of My Lovely Tragedy
Always this.
The trees on either side become denser the deeper I get into… solitude, and my left leg stops shaking when the realization hits. My right foot slips on the gas pedal. The car immediately begins to slow, and I lean forward, pressing my chest to the wheel as I search the right side of the road for the obscure driveway. I remember the slow, agonizing path toward the highway. I remember the trees, how thick they were, and how, when I finally reached the end, I didn’t even realize until the nose of the car was nearly touching the concrete.
Time passes at a crawl—along with the car itself—as I search it out, but each minute that rolls into the next without finding it draws my leg back into an even faster shake. Sweat clings to my palms, slick against the leather. It burns across my nape and down to the base of my spine.
I start when the phone blares to life again from somewhere below the seat. It’s loud, and the vibration travels into the floorboard and into the sole of my boot. I dig my nails into my scalp, ridding myself of the itch as it coils and festers, growing hotter and more alive as I’m reminded of what he said.
That he knew myname.
I let it go until it cuts off again, leaving me in a ringing silence, save for the radio, now playing a Deftones song, which makes every hair stand on end, like the air trapped inside the car is electrified. Tingling in anticipation for the smallest spark to set it ablaze.
My eyes cross and unfocus as they scrape over the trees along the roadside, every single one looking the same. Tall and impossible and deeply green.
“Fuck,” I shout as I pass the smallest gap just above head level. My foot slams into the brake, squealing the tires. I slam forward, crushing my chest against the steering wheel before my body jerks back as the car lurches to a stop.
Air wheezes out of me, forcing itself through the compaction and pressure of pain. I pinch one eye closed at the burst of stars as I slam the car into reverse. When the small gap comes back into view a moment later, I shift into park and dip the car down onto the dirt drive.
Saliva pools on my tongue, flooding my mouth. It tastes faintly of copper, and I swallow it down just as quickly as it pools. My hands slide along the leather as I guide the car slowly over the lumps of freshly dried mud, uneven and disturbed.
The trees on either side feel larger than life with the sun’s rays peeking through their needle-filled branches. The scent of pine and fresh air fills the car as I crack the window, marrying with traces of vanilla.
It smells of home.
More tears prick my eyes but for an entirely different reason. I’m so close, I can taste it.FeelTobias just at the tip of my fingers. My missing pieces just minutes away.
My foot falls heavier against the pedal. The trees pass faster, and with them, my heart. It rises to match the RPMs, but it doesn’t slow as the car does when the small lane bleeds into a large, opened driveway. I catch sight of Tobias’s old Chevy truck immediately and release a puff of tear-clogged breath that bleeds into a heaving sob.
Oh, God, I found it. He’s here, and I’m home. I—I’m finally home again. With him. I don’t have to be alone anymore. We were never meant to be alone. He was wrong, and I’m going to tell him that. I’m going to make him see it. I won’t let him send me away because we can’t be apart. I need him.
The voices in my head are screaming and it’s terrifying. My limbs are rigid as I pull up beside his truck, falling into one last divot just before I ease it into park. I barely feel the smooth leather of the gear shift in my hand or the sharp steel teeth pressed into the palm of my other hand.
My eyes rove over the expanse of the dark colored cabin, over the deck, through the windows, which are blocked out with the curtains drawn. I glance down at the clock illuminated on the dash. It’s only almost seven, so maybe Tobias is still sleeping. I’ve never seen him sleep that late unless… my breath catches.Unless it was beside me.
But then again, I always slept far too much, so I could be wrong. But he never used to shut the curtains… they were always open. I know that because the damn sun would always blind me when I’d open my eyes.
After tucking my hair behind my ears, I press my slick palms against my tight jeans, dragging them down a few times to rid them of sweat while blowing out a breath.
The mountains in the distance feel so much closer than I remember them being—the perfect backdrop to the smooth, dark wood and shimmering glass windows. It’s like his cabin was made and just… dropped in the middle of such raw beauty. But it’s not imposing.
It fits exactly where it is. Like Tobias. Perfectly raw and beautiful himself.
Even with my fingers grasping the handle, I don’t move, eyes pinned on the front door. So close, yet it feelsimpossible.
What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if he sent me away because he was done… like throwing out the trash. Or what if he thinks I don’t want him because I went when he told me to? Because I didn’t stay, and I haven’t tried to come back before now.
Maybe he was expecting me to fight him. To fight to stay.
Was I supposed to try harder? Did I fuck it all up by not fighting for us? Or maybe that’s what he was doing—fighting for what he thought was the right thing…I shake my head wildly, feeling my hair slap across my damp face, tendrils sticking where they connect.But no. It wasn’t right. I was never supposed to leave because… how could I? How did I?
How did I do that to him—to myself?
I ripped us apart because he wanted me to, and now, we’re left eviscerated and hemorrhaging.
But not anymore.
“I’ve come home to you, Tobias.”
And with that sentence ringing loudly and resolute in the air, I force myself from the vehicle with a breath held tightly at the apex of my throat. Unfulfilling and bitter—but motivating.
