“So, where are you taking me, kind sir?”
My snort is embarrassing, but it makes Hud laugh, so I’ll claim that as a win.
But I don’t answer. I just drive.
It doesn’t take Hudson long to realize where we are going, his side-eye questioning. I link our hands and squeeze, helping him relax for the rest of the short drive.
The dusty road is bumpier than it used to be, more worn from the traffic it’s seen these last few months. The pines never change, though, always standing vigil over this once sacred place.
The old bridge comes into view, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the sight doesn’t feel as crushing.
There are still remnants of yellow caution tape blowing in the breeze, a reminder of all the horrors that have taken place here. I’m choosing to ignore those realities, making this moment bigger than all of it.
I open my door and Hud does the same, stepping out and into the bright sunlight. Before I get out, I reach over and pop the glove box, snagging a small velvet bag I’ve stored there.
With a slam of the car door, I take Hud’s hand and lead him up the small hill and over the rusted railing. We walk to our spot on the bridge and climb onto the beam, linking our legs around the bottom supports like we used to.
“Okay, we’re here,” Hud says, looking around. “You are the last person to suggest we come back, so what’s going on?”
I steal a moment to take in our surroundings, memories good and bad flashing before me. They play out like a movie reel, one right after another, one frame coming into sharper focus.
“Being here brings up mixed feelings,” I finally admit, my focus on the river below.
“It does for me, too,” Hud agrees. “I think you were right that day when you said it’ll never be the same. Especially after…”
He looks past my shoulder to the forest, releasing a trembling breath.
I nod, my eyes connecting with his ocean blues. “This place has changed, but so have we. I’ve come to realize that, like with many relationships, it has stuck with us through many phases of life.”
“Yeah, it has,” Hud agrees. “I don’t know about having a relationship with the bridge, though. Seems crowded.”
He smirks, making me chuckle.
“I’m not into inanimate objects, so we’re good.” I chuckle and shake my head at Hud’s joke, then continue with what I was saying. “When you love someone, you don’t walk away the moment things get dark. You stay. You fight for them. This bridge… this river—it’s kind of the same. Yeah, some terrible things happened here, but some of the best moments of our lives happened here, too. I don’t want to give up on a place that’s been part of all of it.”
I hold out the small black velvet bag and hand it to Hud.
“What’s this?” he asks, taking it from me.
“Our reminder.”
He smiles and pulls apart the small strings, fishing out two rings from inside the pouch. Hud stares at them where they rest in his palm.
“Is this a marriage proposal?” His face is slightly pale, eyes round.
I laugh and take the rings from his hand. “No. Well, not yet, at least.”
He visibly relaxes and waits for me to explain.
“I found someone online who makes sustainable jewelry from recycled plastic. He made these for us from the bubble bottles we gave each other. I specifically asked him to use the bottle I gave you at the hospital in both our rings.”
Hud looks up at me and smiles, his eyes glassy.
“This is our reminder that no matter what, we will always show up for each other. On the good days and the bad. That no matter what we face, we will conquer it.”
I slide the purple ring onto his finger, exhaling when it fits.
“So you’re the one who took the bottle from my room? Not…”
