Sitting outside the café with the
sun on her face and the cracked pavement beneath her feet, she could feel the
desolation and despair creeping in like an unwelcome intruder. She tried so hard to fight
it back, but Heather’s willpower and her heart were at odds with each other.
Deep down she knew nothing ever came from giving in to the painful memories, but her
heart craved the comfort that came from giving in, because with it, came him.
It had been over a year since she
last spoke to him. She kept hoping that one day she would check her email and
discover an email from him, telling her why he disappeared and that he was
coming back. She had imagined the reunion so many times. Yet, she knew it would
never happen. Every time she felt she had come to terms with his absence, she
would see something else that would drag her down.
Today, it was a car that
looked like his car. When Heather saw the car stopped at the stop sign two
streets up from where she was stopped, her heart started racing. When her light
turned green and she pulled passed the car, she saw that it was not his car. It
didn’t even look like it when she got close and it was driven by a little
gray-haired woman. Then the tears came. So strong that she had to stop and gather her thoughts.
But she didn’t gather her
thoughts, she just stared at her drink she wouldn’t drink and told herself
to stop thinking about him. That’s when the melancholy took over. It oozed up
her body from the deepest recesses of her soul like an inky-black ocean and
washed over her with icy despair.
Then the release came and she was
transported back to the day they met. It was a day like any
other day—nothing special to mark it as the day that her life would change. She
had woken up, jogged a mile, showered, dressed, and drove the short distance
into work, just as she did every morning. With her mind on her work and nothing
more, she was unsure why she had looked up. Then she saw him. Suddenly, she
knew she had looked up because he had been looking at her, even though he was
deep in conversation with her supervisor. Who was this guy? Beautiful and
charming, that she could gather from clear across the room. Then he smiled and
her supervisor laughed. Her supervisor never laughed. Was he witty to boot?
Now, she must meet him!
She got up on the pretense of
going to the break room to refill her coffee mug. (Oh god…why was she using the
stupid “No coffee, no workie” mug?) She walked straight passed him, trying not
to look at him, but their eyes met and he flashed her a devastating smile. His
brown eyes were mesmerizing. How she made it to the break room, she’s not sure,
but her tactic worked. Just a few seconds after she had entered the break room,
he sauntered in. Heather’s lips curled in a smile, just remembering that
moment.
“Hi, my name’s Hendrix,” he said,
holding out his hand. “I’ll be working the national news desk.”
“Um, Heather, weather,” she
giggled. “Your name’s really Hendrix?”
“Yup, my parents were…well…fans,
Heather Weather,” he chuckled.
That was the moment that they “clicked.”
They had talked about how they never “clicked” with anyone. That’s why Heather
was still single at her age.
Their friendship grew quickly and soon they were
spending just about every waking moment with each other. After a few months, they
decided to move in with each other. Heather’s brow furrowed
at this last thought.
Then, one day, a few weeks before
she was set to move into his house with him, Hendrix called her and said they
needed to talk right away. The tone of his voice made her nervous. He sounded
almost angry, but maybe it was nervous. She had never heard his voice sound
that way. He was always so laid back, so calm.
When he rang her doorbell, she
let him in. Without any preamble whatsoever, he burst out, “I have to leave
now.” He paced the floor like a caged animal. Something was clearly wrong with
him.
Scared and dumbfounded, she said,
“But you just got here.”
“No, not your home. Here, this town.
This state. I have to leave.” She spent the next hour trying to understand what
he meant, but he just kept telling her he couldn’t explain any further. She
pleaded for him to stay, but he said he couldn’t. Then, abruptly, he stood up,
grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door.
“Wait!” she screamed, by now she
was trembling from head to toe, “what if I come with you?”
With that, his face softened and
his resolve melted. “You can’t,” he said softly, with tears in his eyes. “I can’t
explain, but just know that I don’t want to leave you. I will be back as soon
as I can, if I can.”
“Okay, I guess. I’ll wait for
you, will you be long?”
“I don’t know how long I will be.
Don’t wait for me. Live your life.” With that, he kissed her forehead gently
and quietly stole out of the front door, out of her life.
See, I can post comments! I like your writing so much (though I am a little bias)! I just wish you didn't leave such cliffhangers. Keep up the good work; you canmake it! Lovies you, Mom.
ReplyDeleteI'm pretty sure you are completely biased, my sweet, but that doesn't mean I won't take your lovely compliment. Sorry for the cliffhangers, but that's just the way the stories have been coming. Maybe my next one will be wrapped in a neat little package. :)
ReplyDeleteThat would be nice... :P
ReplyDelete