Book 1 | Completed | "Lydia, what if there's a reason I was on the bridge that night?"
Two strangers. One cross-country adventure.
After an unorthodox meeting on The George Washington Bridge, Sean Williams and Lydia Preston agree to take the road t...
I continued to shift and fidget in the passenger seat of my father's car. After Lydia's little stunt at the tattoo shop, we did some sightseeing. She was very interested in the Tijuana Wax Museum. Then we went to Friendship Park where we just sat and talked for a while. That was probably my favorite thing we've done today.
After we left the park, we make a stop at the Hildago Market where we sampled some of the fresh fruit. She seemed to be enjoying Tijuana and I was glad. It's another place both of us have never been, so it made an exciting "first" for us.
"Still hurting?" She asked from the driver's seat.
She's been asking me that all afternoon and I knew she felt bad about it. Like it was her fault.
"It's alright. I'm ready to get out of this bandage, though." Seriously, it needed to be changed already.
"What do you want for dinner?" She asked curiously, keeping her eyes on the road.
"Eh. Whatever you want is cool. I do kind of want to stay in tonight." For some reason, I was feeling a little off today. The thought of staying in tonight with dinner and a movie sounded perfect.
"That works for me," she said, still keeping her eyes on the road. When I thought about it, she's barely looked at me today.
"Lydia?"
"Yes?" She answered as she looked in the rear view.
"Why won't you look at me?"
She hesitated before she answered. "What do you mean?"
"Ever since we left the park, you haven't made eye contact with me. Why?"
Something was clearly bothering her, and I didn't like it.
"Just a lot on my mind."
That didn't sound good, I thought. "Lydia, if I did or said something to-"
"No. It's not you."
"Then what?" Normally I wouldn't pry. Especially with her. But this feeling I had worried me.
She was quiet for a few minutes before letting out a long breath. "Can we talk about this later? I don't want to talk about it in the car."
Oh, yeah. Something was definitely wrong. Even though I was worried about her, I was going to do as she asked. "Yeah, we can talk later."
As we sat in silence the rest of the way to the hotel, I couldn't shake that feeling. It was almost like the feeling I had when we were lost in the park, and she confided in me about her scar and the reason behind it.
I could tell her shoulders were tense, and her hands gripped the steering wheel. I had no other choice in that moment. I rested my hands on my knees and forced myself to keep them there. If I didn't, I was going to reach across the car and try to comfort her.
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