Page 112 of Hunt for the Roses
“Well maybe you should try again,” Ronnie says.
I turn my head to him and furrow my brows slightly. He doesn’t answer my silent question, but he continues on. “That’s my advice to you.” Then Ronnie turns to open his front door and before he walks in his house, he turns to me and says, “She needs you just as much as you need her. I can learn to accept that.”
He throws me a small smile, and I sigh out a small smile of my own, knowing that he’s telling me he’s giving us his blessing. We give each other an understanding nod, and then Ronnie is back in his house.
It’s Sunday night, and I’m pulling up to the front of my townhouse after having dinner with Kate. I’m getting out of my car when I notice Dane on his front porch. He’s in a navy crewneck and gray joggers, sleeping on the bench of his porch, and a wave of rage flows through me. I haven’t heard from him in a week, and now he’s trying to grovel at my feet?
No thanks.
I spitefully slam my car door loud enough to wake him from his beauty rest, and he picks his head up trying to assess where he is. It only takes him a moment to get his mental bearings and realize that I’m outside, but I start to walk up the pathway to my front porch.
“Hey! Ari, stop,” Dane calls out as he jogs over to me.
I continue to walk forward. “Dane, just leave me alone.”
“I just want to talk to you,” Dane says.
I turn around and let out a chuckle. “Oh, yeah? Where the hell have you been this past week?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Last time I checked, I tried talking to you, but you completely shut me out.”
I sigh as I run a hand through my hair. “It’s late, Dane, what do you want?”
He seems surprised by my dismissive tone. “Okay, well can we talk inside? Please?”
“No. I’m tired and I have a bunch of stuff to do this week for my father’s restaurant opening. So if you don’t mind, just say what you have to say.”
He shakes his head and gives me questioning eyes. “Why are you being so cold?”
I glare at him with a hard stare. “Me cold? You break my heart because of your own insecurities, and I’m the cold one?”
“Okay, I get it!” Dane sighs as he places his hands on his hips. “I never wanted to hurt yo-”
“I can’t listen to this.” I let out an exhausted sigh as I turn around to head up the steps of my porch.
“Dammit, maybe you should!” I immediately turn around from the top step of my porch to look down at Dane on the bottom one. “I want to be with you, Ari.”
“Only until the next time you have a meltdown, right?” I let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m never going to be free,” I say as tears well up behind my eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot over this past week. Yes, I’ve had my reservations about us because my past is a part of me. I can’t change that. But it’s not who Iam.Thisversion of me fell in love with you, and this version of me doesn’t have loyalty to the past, it has loyalty to the future.” I shake my head as I look away from Dane, trying to stop my tears from coming out. “But I can only be so strong, and my strength has been chipping away with every hurdle we’ve had to jump.” I pause to look back at Dane. “Maybe our challenges are just a sign that we aren’t meant to be. We should have known that from the beginning.”
Dane sighs as he runs both hands over his face, and then walks up the porch steps so he is eye level with me. I start to turn away to go inside my house, but he gently grabs my wrist. “I see you, Ari. I saw it that night when you were looking up at the stars on your porch. I saw it that evening on the pier when you embraced the rain. And I saw it that night in the rose garden. I know you want something more out of life than what you’ve been given. You think if you just give up now, you won’t have to be disappointed anymore.” Dane shakes his head at me. “But that’s not what you want.” He pauses before continuing. “You want the roses.” I lick my lips as my tears threaten to leave my eyes, and I have to tighten my face to make sure my emotions don’t shed in front of Dane. “And no matter how many thorns are between us, I know I’d prick myself a thousand times just to get to you. I wonder all the time if you feel the same way.” Dane hangs his head down and licks his lips to gather his next words together, and when he looks back up at me, he looks into my eyes as he says, “That’s been the question that’s been plaguing my mind this whole time, and why I’ve second guessed so much of what’s happened between us.”
I just stand staring at him, trying my best to analyze what Dane’s saying in real time. Is it possible for us to survive all we’ve been through, and come out of this journey happy and more in love than ever?
Then I start to think of Dane’s analogy.
Does every thorn that pricks you actually draw blood? If I chose to walk through the thorns to meet Dane on the other side, could I come out unscathed? If not, how many scars am I willing to wear for him?
When Dane realizes I’m not going to respond, he drops his head down and nods in acceptance. “Alright,” he whispers, and then he turns around and walks back to his house.
Once Dane is out of view, I stand frozen on my porch, the only movement being the current of my tears flowing down my cheeks.
Saturday, August 20, 2022
The ivy-covered roof of the gazebo stares down at me as I lay in the middle of the rose garden. I think about how one moment, one single moment, can change everything. It changes how we feel, how we live, and the direction of our journey.
Some people are lucky enough to experience a moment that brings greater meaning to their life. A moment that brings joy, hope, and purpose. But what about those of us who aren’t so lucky? Those of us who experience a devastating moment that shatters our entire world. A moment that wreaks havoc on all of our hopes and dreams that once were.
It’s like that single moment morphs into invisible shackles around your wrists and you’re chained to the corner of a dark room. The door closes, and as your eyes adjust to the dimly lit space, you see the key to your shackles on the other side. It’s like that scrappy piece of metal represents the wonderful moments that were once in your reach.
