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He slowly bends his head toward me, slow enough for me to reject the kiss if I want. No way. I slowly close my eyes and tilt my head up to meet him halfway. His soft lips meet mine and I feel my heart pound wildly in my chest. I feel the warmth all the way through my body. Our lips fit perfectly. I don’t understand how I felt any kind of emotion or passion with any of the other guys I kissed because this kiss puts all of them to shame.
This kiss feels like hope. Like safety. Like certainty. It feels like a future.
It only lasts a few seconds, but my breath is ragged like it had lasted hours. He finally pulls away, and I keep my eyes closed for a moment before slowly opening them. His eyes are full of wonder. Awe.
“Wow,” I say so quietly I’m not sure if he hears me. He chuckles, which confirms he did. He leans in once more for one last soft kiss before he pulls away again.
“Thank you for today. It was my favorite day,” He says sweetly, innocently. It breaks my heart as much as it fills it.
“Come back soon so we can make some more favorite days,” I say earnestly.
“I will. Bye, Mads…I’ll see you.” He smiles and turns to walk back to his truck. I unlock my door and stand in the doorway until I can no longer see his truck. He waves right before he turns the corner.
His absence leaves such a loud void.
His presence is consuming, it always has been. I have always been aware of him, no matter where we were or what we were doing. Whether that was high school or here now in college. I am attuned to him. But now those feelings have turned from animosity into something sweet and good and exciting. I don’t know how I’m going to survive the time I spend away from him.
His absence leaves me feeling empty and aching.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and see a text message from ‘Elliot’.
I miss you.
I smile down at my phone for several long moments.
Hurry back please.
I’m counting down the minutes to Sunday.
EIGHTEEN
ELLIOT, NOW
The days bleed into weeks, and we are comfortable with our little routine. Well, I hope she is comfortable with it. I am aching for more. It has now been two months since her accident. There is a lot of silence. She doesn’t often watch TV with me, but when she does, it’s silent. We eat dinner, mostly in silence. We move around each other, in silence.
We haven't had any kind of ‘successful breakthroughs’ since that day with the spider in the shower.
I try to make casual small talk and she talks back as much as she can. She usually gets quickly uncomfortable in our conversations though.
She still sleeps in the guest bedroom. I still toss and turn in our bed alone every night.
She has kept up with her doctors’ appointments and the doctor commended her for how well she is healing. I’m thankful that she allowed me to drive her and go into the room with her. When the doctor asks about any more memories, she shakes her head and looks down.
“Time,” The doctor says, gently. “Give yourself time to heal, just as your head incision is healing and your arm has healed.” She doesn’t look assured at all, but I give her a hopeful smile before the doctor walks out.
Her cast is off now. I often catch her looking down at her tattoo. It’s the same as mine, but a little smaller. She never said anything more about it or asked about it. I find myself wondering if she regrets it.
We meet with the principal of her school. I go with her. We know she isn’t in any shape to get back to teaching right now, but the principal reassures her that her position is covered until she is ready to come back. She is reintroduced to all the teachers she works with, and even her class. Everyone is so excited to see her, and I can tell she is overwhelmed and uncomfortable with all of the attention she is getting from people she doesn’t remember. They all greet me enthusiastically by name which I can tell makes her uneasy by the forced smile.
She goes to bed earlier than usual that night.
I’m sitting on the couch watching a football game when I hear a knock on the door. There is only one person that would be stopping by at this time of night.
Ana.
Since I locked the door before, I get up to open it and find Ana standing there as I knew she would be. “Hey,” I say.
“Hey, El,” She says, and closes the door behind her. She shrugs her coat off and hangs it on our coat rack.
