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My chest swells and a thick knot forms in my throat. I quickly toss the photograph onto the dresser and walk directly out of the room. Knowing I can’t just sit here and dwell in the ghosts of my past, I grab my car keys from where I left them on the coffee table and head outside to where my beat-up Jeep is sitting in the driveway.
I really don’t have any place specifically to go, I just know I need to go somewhere. So when I climb into Sara Beth and throw her into drive, I have absolutely no destination other than away from here. And that’s okay with me.
After thirty minutes of being on the road, I’ve only managed to sour my mood further. Making the mistake of driving past the high school and then the restaurant we all used to go to every Friday after football games, I let the memories wash over me, a part of me longing for a past I know I will never get back.
I don’t know at what point I end up veering onto the winding wooded road toward Sebastian’s house or why, but once I’ve started that way I can’t bring myself to turn back. Even though I know he doesn’t live there anymore, driving past the expansive property still gives me chills, like a part of him still exists there.
Forcing myself to turn around several miles after passing Sebastian’s, by the time I make it back into town the sun is starting to disappear over the horizon, casting an orange glow over the streets and buildings.
I start to head back toward my mom’s house, but then my stomach lets out a loud grumble and only then do I remember I haven’t eaten today. And while I’m sure my mom has food at the house, I’ve been craving a pretzel bun sandwich fromPerfect Pitafor weeks, and since it’s just a couple blocks from where I am, I decide to make a quick left and head back that way.
When I pull up outside of the small sandwich shop on the corner, I park my Jeep at the back of the near empty lot and make my way toward the entrance. As soon as I reach for the door handle an odd sensation washes over me, and without thinking I look up, my stomach bottoming out the moment that I do.
At first, I think I’m seeing things that there’s no wayhecould be here right now. But then he turns his face upward to assess the couple in front of him and a wave of nausea washes over me.
Sebastian.
I’m not sure how long I stand here, my hand suspended in mid-air but never actually reaching anything. I watch as he fiddles with his phone, swiping his fingers across the screen while he waits his turn, completely unaware of where I stand just a few short feet from him.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt as torn as I do in this very moment. Every part of me wants to go to him, wants to open this door and run into his arms—a place where I know everything will feel right. The other part of me knows I can’t do that.
We’ve come so far and while I still think about him every day, I know that talking to him, looking at him, seeing that boyish smile and feeling the burn of his hazel eyes again will only upset the very delicate balance I have between my head and my heart. And I don’t think I can do that to myself—not again.
So instead I just watch him through the thin pane of glass that separates us. Him unaware that I’m even here. Me all too aware, able to feel his presence in every single pore of my body.
I take a moment to appreciate him. His broad shoulders and massive biceps, the way the muscles strain against his gray t-shirt—no doubt from countless hours of conditioning, practice, drills, and games. His blond hair is covered by a backward baseball cap, and even from here I can see the week-old scruff he’s sporting.
I swear to god he gets more attractive with every minute that passes. Seeing him on television, clad in his football gear, has nothing on seeing the real thing up close and personal. He really is a sight to behold.
It’s so hard to believe that once upon a time I called him mine. Of course, that seems like another lifetime altogether. A time that would probably feel like it belonged to someone else entirely if it weren’t for the pull in my chest—because despite everything that has happened my heart still knows where it belongs.
I watch him for several more seconds, a deep sense of longing lodged in my stomach. It takes everything in me not to pull that door open but somehow, someway, I manage to find the strength to slowly back away.
By the time I reach my Jeep my hands are trembling, and I feel like I’ve just run a marathon rather than walked just a few yards. My heart is beating so rapidly that I can feel my pulse pounding against my neck.
I take several deep breaths, slowly pulling air in through my nose and blowing it out of my mouth.
It’s for the best, I try to reason with myself. And while I know I’m right, it doesn’t make the act of not going to him any easier.
I don’t make any attempt to leave the parking lot. While I blame it on the fact that I’m still too shaken up to drive, I know it’s really because I want to see him again. Even if he doesn’t know I’m here, I just want to look at him for a moment longer and wish that things could be different.
The longer Sebastian is in the restaurant, the more my inner battle rages and the harder it becomes to just sit here and do nothing when I know I could be seconds away from feeling his arms wrapped around me if I would just move.
My eyes stay glued to the front door, not once looking away. I’m so scared I might miss him that after some time I find myself wondering if I’ve even blinked. Then the gears in my mind start to shift, and I’m left arguing with myself for the next twenty minutes on whether or not that was actually even Sebastian inside or if it was someone who favored him and my eyes simply saw what they wanted to.
In fact, I’ve nearly convinced myself of this when he finally exits the restaurant several minutes later, hands shoved deep in his pockets and his face turned down toward the ground.
My breath quickens with each step he takes in my direction, and I swear I’m on the verge of hyperventilating by the time he rounds on a small sports car that I’ve not seen before, not feet from where I’m sitting. I watch him hesitate at the driver’s side door, and then he turns in my direction.
I suck in a breath and hold it, afraid that even breathing will give away my position. Even though it’s dark at this point and I know he can’t see inside my Jeep, I still slink down in my seat.
He looks around, his eyes only grazing over my Jeep for a split second before he slowly shakes his head, looking a little unsettled, before finally climbing into his car.
I watch him drive away after the longest minute of my life, and the instant he does I’m pissed at myself. I punch the steering wheel, cursing at the top of my lungs at how stupid I am. He was right there—right in front of me—and I just let him walk away.
So what if things won’t change? So what if it would be hard to say goodbye? Wouldn’t it be worth it to see him, to hear his voice, to know that he’s doing well? Wouldn’t that have offered me some semblance of peace amongst the chaos?
Completely abandoning the reason I came here, I’m finally back on the road. Courtney’s voice sounds through the phone held to my ear as she reassures me that I did the right thing.
