Broken-a series of short stories

One Last Time

Clem sat in the passenger seat of the car, leaning over the center console into the warm body driving. This mans large arm was slung over her shoulder and her fingers were intertwined with his. The man sitting next to her had his dark eyes directed down at her a fond look on his face, his gaze soft and caring. Clem nuzzled into the man and let a small smile pull at her lips as his thumb dragged across the back of her hand.

Reluctantly he lifted his eyes back to the road when the light flashed a brilliant green. Now it was her turn to look but her gaze held a different element, she seemed to not only be fond of the man but her eyes held a light of admiration. With a soft sigh she allowed her eyes to fall back closed again and a peaceful grace defined her features, seeming as though this moment was apart from all others. The look suggested that this moment was a time in its own, that all the bad things that had happened in the past did not exist here. In this moment she was safe.

Under his gaze she was loved, she was peaceful, she was safe. Eventually she knew that the ride would end, she would have to get out and go home. But that moment would wait, here and now she sat in the passenger seat, she felt the weight of the arm but not her troubles, she was loved. Here in this moment she was okay.

It would end. The car would stop but still they would sit, his other arm would go around her, she would be in his arms for just a moment longer. Loved for one more moment. Safe for one last second. Before they parted ways he would pull her in. Wrap his arms about her and hold her close. One last time, one last gesture.

Eventually she would pull back first. She would be the one to leave with only a bittersweet grin and a veiled glance back. Feel the night air where the arms once were. She would smile but without the feeling, no longer was the gaze on her. All she had left was the night air and a memory that was quickly fading into the past. A memory of the safe feeling, of the absence of sadness and hate. A memory of the touch, of the gaze, of the emotion. That is all it will ever be, a memory of a simple, useless, painful, moment.

A moment that would never return, a second that would never repeat.