Please, Remember Me

Chapter Sixteen - On the Brink of Something Beautiful

That night and the next day were spent back in a bubble.

There was no other word for it. We closed ourselves in his bedroom and just... stayed in the bubble. We didn't speak about the lack of hours left. We didn't think about the fact that my purple bag was now at the foot of the bed, packed and ready to go. We didn't acknowledge that neither of us knew how long it would be until we saw each other again.

No, we stayed in the happy bubble and spoke only of happy things. About the barbeque and the dancing his parents had done, the stories Kyle had told about some students of his. We spoke about the painting and how much he loved it. I spoke about the jewellery he'd shown me from the safe in his garage and about the fact that he donated it. We talked about simple, trivial things and ignored the darkness in the corner of the room.

And it was a slice of heaven, a blatant denial of what was to come.

But the saying goes 'all good things come to an end' and so did ours.

**

We woke up at the crack of dawn and sadness washed over me.

He noticed the tears forming and he quickly kissed me deep and held me tight. Then he made love to me sweet and slow, nothing rough about it, but pure emotion, and I tried my very hardest to ignore the knowledge that it would be the last time for God knew how long.

Then we showered and I again tried to ignore that knowledge. Then I got ready in his bathroom and ignored, then he made me breakfast while I sat on his counter and I ignored.

But I failed massively. Because through all this, tears threatened at the backs of my eyes, my throat was in a constant state of swelling and the ache in my heart grew and grew and grew.

I didn't want to go.

I never wanted to go.

I didn't want to wake up tomorrow and not be next to him, to not sit on his counter and joke about how bad I was at making eggs.

I just didn't.

I wanted to stomp my foot and scream and cry like a five year old because I just really didn't want to fucking go.

I didn't want reality and coldness again, I wanted for this dream to keep on flowing.

But... reality existed and I had no choice. I had a job and he had a job, I had a flat and a life in London and he had one here.

And, thus, we had to say goodbye.

He put me in the truck when it was time and I smiled a bittersweet smile because I loved that he still did it from time to time even though I had mastered the art of ascending into the thing. Maybe it was just a reason for him to keep his hands on me for a little longer.

We drove mostly in silence out of Cherry Creek and back on the motorway to Louisville.

He kept his hand in my lap and I kept mine wrapped around it, trying desperately to soak up some of his strength because I didn't want to cry fully just yet.

We passed the place on the motorway where I assumed we shared our first, epic, kiss and a lot of tears fell. But I ignored it, locked it tight and continued on.

We spoke a little but neither of us could pretend we didn't know where we were going and how painful that was. There was a tightness to his jaw as he drove, a sharpness in his gaze as he continuously looked over at me.

When the city bloomed around us, I ached further.

Because we were coming in on the hour mark.