Oblivion (Completed)

Ryan, cont.

Present Day

"You're seriously not going to tell me where we're going?"

Henley's eyes are bright with wonder and curiosity, and the smile she's wearing tells me she's enjoying this little game we've been playing. I eye her from head-to-toe as she walks beside me. I've caught myself doing that a lot lately—taking in everything about her. Her beautiful, telling eyes. The way she carries herself now that her memories are back. I know what I'm feeling and thinking right now is only a sliver of what she's been going through, but it doesn't make this any less amazing.

Her lips are painted a soft pink and when she sticks her tongue out at me and her hands go to her amazing hips, I know she's caught me staring. Guilty as charged and loving every minute of it. Her bright smile tells me she loves it, too.

"Come on. You've got to tell me," she tugs on the sleeve of my coat just before wrapping her fingers with mine. It's considerably warmer than just a few weeks ago, but her warm skin is a comfort to me for many reasons. It's all the reassurance I need to know everything is going to be okay. That the past is just that—the past. And that we're leaving our mistakes where they lie and diving headfirst into the rest of our lives.

"Nope. What part of 'It's a surprise' did you miss, Hen?" I ask playfully as I pull my keys from my deep jacket pocket. My snarky question earns me an adorable glare, and I can't keep the wide grin off my face as she pouts and lowers herself into the now unlocked car.

"I'll get it out of you," she teases. As soon as her seatbelt is clicked into place, she kicks off her boots and draws her knees up to her chest. "Always do."

A laugh escapes my lips before I'm able to draw it back, because she's right; some things never change. She's always had a knack for getting information out of me with a bat of her pretty long eyelashes and she's working them now as she looks up at me with her cheek pressed into her knees. Her skin is a pretty pink, worn from the wind, and I won't take the pure simplicity of this moment for granted. Never again. She chews her lower lip and I nearly lose it. Damn, I'm a lucky guy.

"Not this time," I say, leaning over to press a kiss to her soft lips before starting the engine. The dash is lit with a bright 5:00 am, again reminding us just how early it really is. We're buzzing on two fresh, strong cups of coffee and I'm hoping it's enough to get us to lunchtime because I want to make as few stops as possible. I shoot her one more cocky, knowing smile before shifting the car into drive and heading back to the highway.

Honestly, I'm nervous. I really hope I'm doing the right thing, because in a matter of 15 hours we'll be too far from the comforts of home for anything to go wrong. My gut tells me this what we need to do. That I can love my girl to the moon and back and she'll probably say it's enough, but deep down I know she needs more than just me. And while I could be selfish and keep her all to myself, she deserves to know there's someone else, aside from my family, who loves her. Who has been thinking of her, worrying about her all along.

We're only an hour in, so there's plenty of time to turn around. And trust me, the thought has crossed my mind a few times. She amazes me every day. Even now, as I chance a glance to my right and watch her begin to fall asleep pressed against the cool window. I'll let her rest, because I know she needs it. Her memories have been back for just under two weeks, but it feels like my mind's been running ever since. I should content. Relieved, right? Anything less would mean I'm ungrateful...but that's not the case. No matter what I do, I just can't relax. Can't get this feeling that something crazy is going to happen out of my gut. My heart just wants to feel and live and appreciate the second chance we're being given, but it's got a hell of a lot of convincing to do where my head is concerned. The truth is, I've been so busy mourning the last few years that I didn't have time to stop and think about how important it is to forgive myself.