Grey Skies

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Davis POV

I can still smell her on my shirt. It is a mixture of strawberries and vanilla, and normally the sweet smell would make my head hurt, but it seems to ease the consistent ache in my chest. Her smell fills my car and overpowers the air freshener I have hanging on my rearview. Or maybe the smell isn't so strong, maybe it's barely noticeable and I'm just trying to hold on.

Before I can decide which, a car pulls into my lane nearly cutting me off. I slam down on my breaks and pound on the steering wheel. The driver raises their hand to apologize to me and continues to drive. She is young, maybe twenty, and I feel instantly guilty for transferring my rage onto her. She even reminds me of Iris, or her driving does at least. I would always sit in her passenger side gripping the door and using the dashboard for support whenever she would hit the breaks hard. She had this tendency of driving too close to the drivers in front of her when she felt they were going too slow. That's how traffic gets started, she'd say, because of this idiot.

Whenever she would ride their tails I became extremely anxious. I'd sit up straight and remind her to break whenever I felt that she got too close. I smile and rub my jaw as I think of how she slammed the break once to get me to shut up.

The pain in my chest grows more. I realize that I will never escape her. Even if she isn't with me, she is still everywhere. The smell of strawberry and vanilla is suffocating me. I roll down my window and continue driving. I'm unsure of where I'm going but I know that I can't stop, but I also know that if I don't stop soon I'll go to her. I'll beg her to come back to me and stay.

I want to tell her that I wouldn't take any of it back, even if it meant that we could still be together if none of this happened. When I saw Iris four months ago, I could barely recognize her. Physically, she was the same. But she was no longer Iris. I had spent years learning how to deal with her personality, and four months ago that Iris was not the Iris I had known for four years. She had lost her fire. Her words had no bite. She wasn't living.

It kills me to see her in this position again, and that I contributed to it, but I wish that she could recognize that this isn't the end. If there is anything that I have learned after my father's death is that you have to let some things go to find other things you love. I hope she does find herself and her life past soccer, and maybe that means that her life past soccer also means her life past me. Maybe I was only supposed to be a part of that chapter of her life, and I'm okay with that because a chapter with Iris is better than not knowing her at all.

I pull up to the front of the house and rest my head against the seat. I'm unsure of how or why I came here, but it feels right. Before I can change my mind, I get out of the car and walk up to the door. I knock and wait a couple of seconds for a response. Just as I'm about to leave the door opens and I'm met by a pair of wide eyes. She pushes her red curls out of her face and tucks them behind her ear. We stand there in silence for a minute before I ask if I can come in. She stares at me and I wonder if she can tell that I am falling apart in front of her. She nods and steps to the side.

I walk into her living room. She bought new furniture and changed the layout of the home.

"You finally got a new couch," I say. I turn and smile at her. She doesn't follow me into the room but stays at the entrance. "It's nice."

"Did you come here to talk about my couch?"

"I mean it's a nice couch." I sit down on it and let out a small groan as my body sinks into it. I open my eyes to find Meg standing in front of me with her arms crossed. I sit up and smile. "Sorry," I say.