Saving Boston (Rewritten)

Not Everyone Is To Die For

The leather deformed underneath the grip of my fingers, morphing to the curve of my nails as they dug into the surface of my steering wheel. My knuckles throbbed, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to hit something or needed to ease up on my hold. The scar tissue barely healed on my fist split, and every brush of cold air made the open wound sting. So, I rolled down the windows. I had to feel something, even if it was pain. All I need is a focus, so I don't stop this truck.

Not many bars stayed open in a small town like this one, but I didn't need to drive far if I wanted to find somewhere to drown my sorrows. Even if the doors were locked, I had the key to the most extensive supply of alcohol a single man could need. I had the keys to many things but not the curly-haired girl's heart.

My hands were curled around the rope of hope, allowing it to dangle me in the air as the pit of unknown emotions waited to swallow me. When I looked up to see why I still hung on, I swore I could see her eyes, but the burning sensation of synthetic fibers was clouding my judgment. I am unsure if it hurts more to hold on or let go at this point.

Some people say the universe sends them signs, but maybe we live on different ones. It's just that I loved her so hard I softened. If we are meant to be together, where is my sign? If the universe fights for people to be together, why does she keep getting pulled away? Perhaps it fights for people like Bo, though. I couldn't imagine why it would waste time on me. Maybe everyone was right - I don't deserve her, and she deserves better.

People also say talking through your feelings makes things more manageable, and it did for those three hours, but now I am vulnerable. Someone saw the side of me that doesn't come around often, and I feel like I have fucked up. Rarely had I opened up to Bo, but if she asked me a question, I didn't shy away or lie about it. If she were to ask me now for the truth, I would still give it to her. Because I did everything but lie to Bo.

Just as exhaustion started sweeping over me and I found myself ready to pull over, I saw a familiar golden light shining on the wet blacktop roads. As I eased my foot onto the brake, I saw a girl with her curly hair tied in a knot on the top of her head, reading from a book as she sat in an office chair.

I shifted into park before killing the power to my truck. For a while, I just sat there watching as she gently twisted back and forth in her chair with a focused look on her face. The bruising on her cheek started to dissolve, but blots of purple discolored her eye socket. Underneath the glasses on her face, a crack across the top of her nose stayed hidden.

Without hesitation, I found myself walking toward the door separating me from her. Brian sat before me, scrolling through his phone as he sat at the receptionist's desk. My head nodded toward him as I moved toward the hallway, where a little crack of light cut through the darkness.

Just as my hands slowly lifted to press the door open, her little voice broke the silence. "Brian?"

The moment we made eye contact, I noticed her reddened eyes. Something made me hope the reason for her tears had something to do with the novel in her hands, but I knew her all too well. As much as I promised to be the reason for her happiness, I became the only reason her life fell apart.

Her eyebrows pinched together as she looked up at me with genuine confusion. I knew we were both wondering why I came here, but somehow we both knew the answer. My feet carried me toward her, even though my heart begged me to keep my distance.

"What are you doing?" She whispered.

My fingers gently tipped her head backward so I could further analyze the mark on her face. She stared at me with wide eyes as her body rested on the edge of her seat. I gently brushed my thumb across the bruise on her face where stitches used to be, and a sigh exited my lips.