Life After You And Me

Uncovered Veil

Knysna is an undeniable beauty.

As we journey through the road, I let myself register the lush greenery, rolling hills, and glimpses of the sparkling ocean, finding solace in the changing landscape outside the car window.

But when the majestic distraction inevitably fades, I allow myself a stolen glance at the handsome man seated beside me in the driver's seat.

His strong profile, framed by the soft glow of sunlight, captivates my attention. There's a sense of familiarity in the curve of his jawline, the way his eyes crinkle, especially when he smiles—except he hasn't smiled in a while and I'm to blame for that.

Evin hasn't said the words out loud and neither have we spoken about it, but I know he thinks I haven't agreed to his proposal because of a lack of fondness on my part—that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's because of the very fondness that I find myself disheveled and out of sorts.

Despite my unrelenting skepticism, I still continue to study the contours of his face, tracing the features that have become so familiar to me.

For a moment, the tension in my heart dissolves into the background, replaced by a sense of longing and need to hold his hand and caress his cheek—just like I always do when he drives.

I'm reminded of the reasons I fell in love with him—the kindness in his eyes, the way he holds my hand when I'm scared, and the gentleness in his touch.

But as quickly as the warmth washes over me, the questions resurface, pulling me back to the reality I'm in.

The flawless man I'm with could potentially make a victim out of me. He could build me a world only to shatter it into a million pieces, and I may make excuses for him because Stockholm Syndrome is a thing and I don't make the rules.

With a sigh, I tear my gaze away from his captivating features and refocus on the passing scenery outside.

I suddenly feel his strong glare on my profile, causing me to shift my sight away from the window and back toward him.

His eyes lock onto mine and the vulnerability in his contact is ever present.

I can sense the hurt that lingers beneath the surface, the pain that my doubts have caused him.

He deserves the truth and that is exactly what this weekend away is supposed to achieve.

I've booked us an away trip at a spa and lodge in Knysna, so we can finally talk about the past, move forward from it, and hopefully begin our happily ever after. Of course this is the best-case scenario, I'm yet to consider the worst-case.

As our eyes remain locked, I notice a flicker of resignation in his expression before he turns his face away, a gesture that speaks volumes even though we both know he needs to focus on the road ahead.

I want more than anything to ease his worries, to tell him that my doubts will fade away, and we can move forward without any more reservations. But the truth is, I can't make those promises. It wouldn't be fair on him or me.

So I release another sigh before switching on the car radio and returning my gaze back to the passing landscape outside the window.