Pouring rain
Their rented car went down backroads through forests, the pitter patter of rain providing a sombre soundtrack appropriate for Ryanne's mood. With her arms crossed, Laika glared out the passenger window. Since they had left the city that morning for their yearly weekend getaway, now tainted with bitterness, an uncomfortable tension had pervaded the little area.
Ryanne searched for the appropriate words to break through the cold barrier between them as trees passed past.
"Please speak with me, Laika. We agreed to resolve this."
She groaned and sent a drab glance in our direction. "Are you sure I'm here? What else are you hoping for from me?"
Her voice sliced more deeply than any shout. Beyond his annoyance at the rising invisible divide where intimacy and trust once lay, Ryanne tightened his grasp on the driving wheel.
"I desire my girlfriend to return." I could laugh with Laika, the Laika who used to tell me everything."
Her expression briefly showed a hint of wistfulness. Then, though, her barriers closed again.
"Ryanne, that Laika has vanished. You moved her aside."
Rain began to pour down harder, echoing their broken environment inside the auRyanneobile. Silence fell. Ryanne missed their easygoing friendship and their ability to find solace in words as much as quiet. Nowadays, being physically near someone causes uneasiness and a plethora of unsaid obstacles.
Evening had set in by the time they reached the isolated cabin. In the uncomfortable silence, Laika began quietly cooking separate meals while Ryanne built a fire to drive away the wet chill. When he got close, she let out a short sigh and leaned her eager eyes on the counter.
He said softly, "I realize we have a lot to go through."
But would it be possible for the two of us to spend this weekend alone? No stress, no distractions—I miss you, Em. I fear that we will lose everything."
Her expression collapsed, a stoic façade suddenly revealing sadness and rage. "Ryanne, what do we have? We only ever quarrel! Do you still desire the same future that I do?
He stepped cautiously and emphasised, "Of course I do."
"I hope we have a future together. I simply need more time."
She released a sour chuckle.
"Ryanne, what's the time for? To drag me along while you make your priorities a priority? I'm beyond being an afterthought, I promise!"
Laika dropped the knife with a loud clang and pushed past him into the bedroom, closing the door.
Ryanne tossed and turned on the sofa for hours, listening to the relentless storm outside, in a suffocating silence. At midnight, a loud crack of thunder rattled the walls, and the bedroom let forth muffled sobs. He got up and gave a soft knock, his heart squeezing.
Hey? Let me in, please."
There was a lengthy wait before the door opened, revealing her red, swollen face creased with sorrow. Ryanne immediately pulled her into his arms and allowed her to weep into his chest as they sought refuge together in the thick of the mayhem while the rain outside pounded down heavily.
The following morning was equally dismal, but with bright grey skies, the talks went more easily. They discovered compromised honesty while lingering over coffee by the living room window.
"It's not like I don't want our future together, Em," Ryanne remarked in a low voice.
"I'm only afraid. Everything feels like it's changing so quickly.
"I understand how you feel," she said, staring him down with genuine sensitivity.
"I had anticipated having more time to go through this as a team. Ryanne, I can't let you go."
"Taking her hand gently, he promised,
You cannot. We both will do better, I swear. Please stop excluding each other. "
Laika gave a thin, misty grin.
"Alright. Though I'm still not sure, I'm trying. For us."
Ryanne leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss. For now, rain outside spoke comforting songs, and their jagged edges fit together again. Though it was still uncertain what lay ahead, at least they would face it together.
