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He lifts himself up just an inch so he can hit the kick-start, and the bike comes to life, rumbling beneath me.
“Watch your legs on the exhaust pipe,” Cash says over his shoulder, and I look down to make sure my feet are on the pegs. I bury my face into his back, smelling the old leather of his jacket as he kicks the bike into gear, and the wind whips my hair back.
I’ve never seen L.A. quite like this before, from the vantage point of being on the back of a motorcycle. Everything seems so different as we cruise down Sunset Strip. The lights on the clubs blur as we ride past. At the Chateau Mormont, we take the turn for Laurel Canyon. My arms wrap tighter around his waist as he shifts into fifth gear. The night air is chilly, and I’m glad I grabbed my leather jacket, although my fishnet stockings aren’t protecting my legs against the cold. When we get to Universal City Overlook, Cash pulls over. I’m glad to get off for a little bit and stretch my legs.
The overlook provides a panoramic view of the L.A. skyline, and at nighttime, it’s like the city is winking with excitement. I lean against the guardrail and remember how in love with this city I was when I first got here. I was on my own for the first time in my life and it was scary, but it held so much potential.
Just like now.
“What are you thinking about?” Cash asks from behind me. He snakes his arms around my waist and presses his warm body to mine. I shiver from the sudden temperature change, and if I could climb inside his jacket, I would.
“I was just thinking about how wild and beautiful this city is,” I tell him, staring out at the millions of blinking lights and thinking about all of the people down there, some arriving just as I did, so many years ago, chasing a dream.
“Just like you,” Cash whispers in my ear. I can feel his cheek rest against my hair and I want to stay in this moment forever. It’s as if we are in a bubble where none of the heartache and betrayal can penetrate us, but I can feel it lurking just on the edge. I know this can’t last forever, and we can’t hide from reality.
I turn around to face him, placing my hands on his forearms, still feeling the warmth from his body. He searches my eyes. I know all too well that you can’t move on until you deal with the past.
“What’s going on?” he asks me with concern.
My throat burns. “What is this, Cash?” I ask him, not really sure if I want to know the answer, but I feel like at any moment the rug will be pulled out from under me.
He lets go of me and turns away, walking around me the short distance to the guardrail and placing his hands on the cold metal. Just like that, the bubble is broken.
He kicks at the dirt with his shoe and finally looks at me. “Fuck, Mia.” I can tell he is wrestling with his feelings. “I don’t want to feel this way.”
“Feel like what?” I ask.
“Like a fucking hypocrite.” He raises his voice slightly and we take our conversation away from the group of people that are enjoying the view. We walk along the concrete path of the outlook and stop at the trailhead.
“I don’t understand.” I want to reach out and comfort him, but knowing that I am the cause his of distress stops me.
“How can I be in love with you and hate you at the same time?” he admits, his words burning like the strike of a match against my skin.
“I think you can love the person but hate what they’ve done,” I offer, knowing how true this is.
“I once looked at you and saw…” he starts to say but stops himself, and all I can concentrate on is the word ‘once’. “Everything,” he finishes. The word comes out in a hush but it slices into the air like a blade between us.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” He runs his palm down his face. “I wanted to hate you forever,” his eyes glisten in the moonlight, “And then you had to chase me down in the street.”
“Cash…” I reach for him. Every part of me wants to wrap him up inside of me right now. The damage I did will stay with him forever. Maybe he can forgive me, maybe he already has, but he will never forget.
“Just let me finish,” he quiets me. “There’s a reason I didn’t send you divorce papers right away. I should have.” He rubs the back of his neck before going on, “I fucking should have, but my heart wouldn’t let me.” His eyes are filled with turmoil. “I knew all it would take is for me to see you again, and here I am.”
I can feel my chin quiver and the prickle of tears behind my eyelids. Crying right now would be selfish, and I fight hard to hold everything back.
“Why?” he begs. “Why did you have to fuck him of all people?!” His words aren’t harsh or hateful, but instead they’re painfully raw, as if he wishes it weren’t our reality.
“I can’t answer that.” I want to have an answer for him, but I don’t even know myself.
“Because you can’t or you won’t?” he asks, knitting his brows together.
“Because there is no right answer,” I reply, shaking my head sadly. I don’t think I could explain it even if I tried. There is a pull that I have to both of them. We are all so intertwined that it’s hard to see through the bramble.
“Would it have hurt any less if it was someone else?” I ask.
“Yes!” He raises his voice and I tilt my head trying to understand. “Because you love him. You’ve always been in love with him, and I had to sit back and watch it. Do you know how much that hurt?”
The tears fall, and there is nothing I can do to stop them.
