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One day, we’ll grow out of this childish jealousy, but today is not that day.
“Eh,” I finally answer him, kissing him again. “It was kind of pointless.”
“I told you, you should’ve skipped,” he says, releasing one of my hands and leading me away. Only, he’s going the wrong way.
I squeeze his hand, resisting. “Did you need to go train or something?” It’s off-season, but Connor still takes advantage of the facilities on campus when he can.
He shakes his head. “Nah, I drove here so we could leave right away.”
My brow pinches, and I follow after him, my two steps for every one of his. “Leave to go where? Did we have plans?”
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles down at me. “I packed your bag already.”
“Packed a bag?” What? “Babe, I can’t go anywhere. I have—”
“It’s just a couple nights,” he says, squeezing my hand and dropping a kiss on my curls. “Relax, baby.”
* * *
“Relax,” he says, as if it’s that simple, and the farther from home we get, the harder it is to do exactly that. If he’s leading me to where I think he’s going, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it. Still, I stay quiet, fidgeting in my seat. I know Connor. Sometimes I feel as if I know him better than he knows himself, and I know he’d never do anything to intentionally hurt me or even make me the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s taken years to heal from the trauma of my past, and the last place I want to go is back there—to where it all started and where I decided to end it… by setting that trauma on fire.
Literally.
Surely, he wouldn’t force me back there.
He couldn’t.
Fear begins to build a fortress in my chest at the first glance of the sign that shows the distance to Shemeld. It’s where Connor and I first met, where our houses sat side by side—where we created memories of late-night kisses and bright orange balloons tied to porch railings… but it’s also the place I almost lost my mother. Multiple times. Physically and mentally. Tears blur my vision as I turn to the man behind the wheel, try to keep my emotions in check. “Connor…” It’s the first word I’ve spoken in a while, and it’s barely a whisper, but I know he hears me.
He’s sitting ramrod straight, both hands on the steering wheel, and he glances at me quickly before focusing on the road again. “You trust me, right?”
With my life. “Yes, but—”
“I love you, Ava,” he says, and it’s so much more than a simple declaration of his feelings.
It’s I love you, Ava.
And I’ll never hurt you, Ava.
And Please, trust me, Ava.
He takes my hand, linking our fingers.
You’re stronger than you believe, Ava.
I close my eyes, exhale through my nose, and bring his hand to my lips. Kiss him once. “I love you, too, Connor.”
* * *
It’s almost dark when we get to our destination and pull into the same driveway I spent much of my childhood. The recollections play out like snapshots in my mind, first with my mom, then occasionally with her ex-husband, William, and then Trevor once he got his license. I almost smile at the memories of Trevor sitting beside me, his shoulders up to his ears and a grimace on his face that had me howling with laughter. He often let me choose the music for the drive home when he picked me up from school, and it was always, always, One Direction. And, boy, was it loud. “Girl, this makes my ears bleed!” he’d yell, but he never once attempted to lower the volume or switch songs. The day I caught him singing “What Makes You Beautiful” was one of the best days of my life.
Now, I stay put while Connor exits his truck and makes his way to my side. He opens my door, but I don’t move to get out, too busy staring at the house in front of me. The brick stairs leading to large white columns and the large balcony hanging over the entrance.
It was so much more than a house.
It was our home.
Still, I never expected to come back here, and honestly, I never wanted to.
