Tonight is the night we die

Chapter Fourty-Six

We were about to get on the road with Gloria. I didn't manage to make her change her mind despite numerous attempts. A part of me was glad she stood her ground. I zipped my bag and joined her in the kitchen. Her back leaned against the middle island, she typed on her phone as I entered.

"Are you ready?" I asked, and she answered with a nod.

My curious eyes glanced at her phone, but she locked the screen before I could peek at the name of the recipient of the text. I hated myself for this type of behavior. Thankfully, Gloria didn't notice.

On the way outside, she shared her excitement about going on the road with me, like we used to do when we started dating. We left without any specific itinerary. She asked me to show her where I've been and my favorite places. And so I did. It was us and only us. We disappeared from the rest of the world for months and never got tired of each other. So to have her by my side added some lightness to the actual situation. Her smile was contagious. Once beside the motorcycle, Gloria put her helmet on and waited for me to take care of the straps.

"You know, I know you can do that on your own now," I smiled at her as I secured it.

"Every excuse is good to have your hands on me," she chuckled, and I pulled her visor down, amused.

"Hey!"

Our mutual playlist played in our headgears as we made our way closer to my roots. At every red light, I seized the opportunity to put my hands on her. My leather gloves stroked her thighs, and her fingers scratched the tiny part of my neck that was not hidden. Bloody green light!

We stayed just outside Mountmend, and I decided to make a little detour through town to show her where I grew up. It was also an exercise for me as I always avoided any roads that could remind me of the past. I needed to face them as quickly as possible to get my head into the game. Doing it with Gloria by my side seemed the gentlest manner to do it.

We drove down the city center. The lights turned red, and I lifted my tinted visor. Everything was still mostly the same. Perhaps a bit more modern than when I left. But the whole area had this old look to it. On our right were apartment buildings where I used to think I would live. They had that Parisian appearance I liked. The facade had absorbed the years of dust and altered the beige for a brownier version. But they stood proud and indestructible like giants amongst the anthill. A few apartments had balconies with black railings, where tenants suspended terracotta planters. The buildings overlooked the main square. A vast tiled area with dark wooden benches and a fountain with an angel at the top of the central piece. The trees had fairy lights attached to the branches during Christmas; they tinkled against each other and flickered alongside the cold wind that would usually hit.

The noisiest sound you could hear was the bus, passing by every twenty-five minutes to lead you to the biggest city, which was the one where I currently lived with Gloria. I watched the bus with the tired orange LED destination sign approaching us. The compressed air released warmed us. Same old dusty white buses with red and green thick lines on each side. Or sometimes an advertisement for some event nearby. I took them so many times when I desired to see things from a broader spectrum. The squeaky seats would make you run to the nearest chiropractor.

Mountmend was vibrant. If you turned right at the red light, you would find the pedestrian street. Shops had colorful facades. The florist was sage green. The bakery, which smell would always make my stomach rumble, was pastel pink. The bookstore was light blue. And at the very far end of the street was a small white church, the bell that ran every hour made it impossible for people to hear each other. The tiled road was grey, but when the sky reflected on them on a sunny day, they looked as blue as the ocean. They were also extremely slippery.