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“It was really nice to finally meet you,” I say, honestly.
Her dad gives me a hard handshake and a grin. “Glad to have a son now. Happy you’re a part of the family.”
The smile on my face doesn’t fade, but I can’t help feeling like a piece of shit for deceiving them. Lennon doesn’t wait a beat before speaking up. “Well, we gotta go. I love you both so much. See you soon!”
They follow us outside and wave goodbye when we get in the car and back out of the driveway. I beep the horn a few times as Lennon waves and soon the two-story house fades in the distance. As we enter the highway, Lennon lets out a long sigh, which makes me laugh.
“I’m kinda sad we’re leaving,” she finally says.
“Me too.” I don’t reach for her hand even though I want to. Instead, I keep both hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel.
“They really liked you a lot.” She looks at me with a smile. “Thank you again for…everything,” she says, then looks out the window.
“Lennon, you know you don’t have to keep thanking me, but you’re welcome.” I meant every word, every touch, every kiss. The guilt I pushed aside for the sake of getting through this slowly returns to haunt me as we drive away from our personal haven. A place where we didn’t allow ourselves to feel remorse for what we were doing, what we had to do, what I’d do ten times over again if I had to. Instead of pouring my soul out to her, I turn on the radio and try not to pay attention to anything, especially the way I feel. A piece of my heart will remain in Utah, a sliver of what’s always been reserved for Lennon.
The drive over, we return the rental car and go through security at the airport in hyperspeed. Our flight is delayed, which means we won’t get home until after dark. I wished we would’ve known beforehand and could’ve spent time in Salt Lake City. But instead, we sit and wait. With every passing hour, Lennon grows more anxious and so do I. When we have lunch, we find out we’ve been delayed even longer. The entire day has been spent sitting and waiting. Lennon falls asleep on my shoulder, but I remain wide-awake as I process the past three days.
Eventually, we board the plane, and I’m sure every passenger who steps on is pissed. I shove Lennon’s suitcase in the storage compartment and almost worry it won’t fit because it’s stuffed to the max. Lennon packed as much as she could of her mother’s gifts, though she’ll still be shipping packages to us.
As the plane lifts off into the air, Lennon takes my hands in hers, and we interlock fingers. Though it’s a small gesture, touching her feels like home. Whether she does it out of habit or comfort, I brush my thumb across the top of hers, and she leans her head against my shoulder, falling asleep. My mind is in marathon mode as I think about how holding Lennon under the booming fireworks will forever be etched into my heart. And brain.
So many people commented on how they can see how in love we were, and it’s something I can’t seem to shake.
Was it all pretend for her? Was she acting the entire time?
Regardless, it can’t turn into anything real, though a part of me knows or rather hopes, it was.
Not once did our act falter, and we performed so well, we both deserve Oscars. But the reality is, I didn’t have to pretend. For the first time ever, the walls I’ve been so adamant to build, crumbled to rubble. Being able to kiss and touch her, and openly love her came natural and too easy.
Before we came to Utah, I already had it bad for her—and now I’ve completely fallen.
I’m so fucking doomed.
Once we land, we deplane and grab our bags from the carousel. On the way back to the apartment, we’re both yawning. The past few days were nothing short of exhausting. Between meeting new people, waking up early, and trying to impress Lennon’s parents, I’m ready to pass out. We pull into the apartment, and I manage to carry all the bags up the stairs in one trip.
“I could’ve helped, you know.” Lennon unlocks the door, and we step inside. Our sighs happen in unison, and it causes her to smirk.
“Home sweet home!” she says, removing her bra and dropping it on the floor. “That feels so much better.”
“Just let it all out.” I chuckle, and she shrugs, going to the bathroom.
I bring her suitcases to her room and throw my bag on the floor. I’m pissed I didn’t take off work tomorrow. The reality that our rendezvous is over hits me in full force. The line in the sand reappears, reminding me of where we were before Utah, before Brandon’s death, before it all. Lennon needs to be kept at arm’s length, but the thought causes my heart to skip a beat. The sound of her voice startles me.
