Dean sat comfortably in the passenger seat, his long legs crossed as he looked out the window. We had started out making polite conversation, remarking on the weather- it was supposed to rain later- and how the football season was going. Neither one of us really had the time to follow sports, so that was a short conv
ersation. I didn't really want to discuss the current situation with Robbie, and anything regarding the Saunders family was dangerous due to Daniel's condition. Our usually easy conversations, just didn't seem to flow. Our minds were elsewhere. As a result, we sat in silence, listening to the radio. At least we both liked the oldies radio station.
About halfway there, the sky started to drip. At first it was just a couple of big, wet drops, splattering across the windshield. Our little black car hurtled forward, undaunted, into the darkening clouds. Lightning flashed, blinding the sky. I glanced over at Dean as the thunder shook the car windows.
"Some storm, huh?" I gave him a nervous smile.
He nodded, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward in his seat to peer out the windshield at the threatening sky. As if just looking had torn a hole in the sky, rain began to pour. Water sloshed across the road, the falling rain too thick to see through. I tapped on the brakes, feeling the car wiggle on the wet road. Lightning seared across the sky, thunder hot on its heels. This was not a good place to be.
I zeroed in on the brake-lights of the car in front of me, barely able to see them through the storm. Without warning, the car lurched, water stealing the wheels and veering us off the road. I made an undignified sound as I managed to keep control of the car, keeping it from flipping as we hydroplaned across the highway. Lightning scorched the sky, blinding me as I struggled to keep the car from sending the two of us to a watery grave.
I barely registered the thunder, the smearing rain on the windows, or the strange sound the tires made as they powered through the river running down the road. From the corner of my eye, I could see Dean bracing himself against the car, a frown pulling his eyebrows together.
Our last kiss was all I could think of. The way his lips felt soft against mine. The little patch of skin he had missed while shaving that tickled my cheek. His hands, the way the pressed me into him, the way his body held mine like we were made for one another. Imminent death made me think of losing him like I did so many years ago. The steering wheel lurched as we came out of the hydroplane and onto solid pavement again, sucking me out of my memory. I pulled off on the closest shoulder, my knuckles white around the steering wheel.
"You okay?" Dean asked, putting a hand on my arm. I gave him a weak smile, still gripping the steering wheel like the car might fly off at any second. He gave me one of his perfect crooked grins, put on the parking break, and slid his hand down my arm. His skin was warm against mine, his hand infusing a calm energy into me. He carefully unpried my fingers from the steering wheel, wrapping his hand around mine. I realized I was shaking.
"Are you okay?" I asked. I held onto his hand, afraid he might take it away. My heart was pounding in my ears, the adrenaline of almost crashing giving me a jittery high. His hand was the only thing keeping me grounded.
"A little rain can't faze me," he answered. "You did a nice job back there."
"Thanks. That was intense!" I gave a short laugh. A tendril of hair had escaped my bun again, and with my free hand, I pushed it behind my ear. "I think we'll just wait this out for a little bit. Robbie won't appreciate it if we never arrive because we're dead."
Dean nodded and peered up through the windshield again. Seeing only the pounding rain, he unbuckled his seat-belt and settled into the chair. He kept my hand clasped firmly in his, as though he were afraid I would let go. Thunder rattled the glass, the storm raging around us. Rain pelted the car with angry drops, creating a metallic music on the roof; I couldn't see past the car windows, the world lost to misty grayness. We were in our own world, just the two of us. Nothing else existed past the swirling silver-streaked rain.
"Why did you never write me?" The words came out unbidden. I had wanted to say them for months, but it never felt right. How do you tell someone that he broke your heart when you have to see him everyday after that?
"What?" Shock filled his voice, with just a hint of confusion and anger. His blue eyes darkened in the gray light, but he didn't pull his hand away.
"Why didn't you write me?" I repeated. My voice shook with the effort, but now that it had been asked, I had to finish.
"I did write you. I wrote you so many letters. I went through two Bic pens, and those were hard to get out there. I stopped because you never wrote me. I waited for letters every day, and they never came." He searched my face, the gray light making his dark hair darker and his skin pale.
I frowned, my brow crinkling and my lips tightening, righteous indignation swelling in my chest. I had been so angry at him for never writing for so long, I hadn't realized how much it had hurt. The idea that he thought he stopped because I had never written him was maddening. "I wrote you every day a month! I stopped writing because at the end of that month, the postman handed me back the entire stack of them with "UNDELIVERABLE" stamped on every one. I didn't have any other way to reach you because you never wrote me back."
Dean's mouth opened, his eyes going wide, and he sat back in his seat. He slowly shook his head, trying to make sense of what I just said.
"I looked for you when I came back. I went to the address you gave me, but no one there knew who you were. The woman in your apartment didn't know anything about any letters. I was sure you had given me the wrong address, or that you had found someone else," he said. He didn't look at me, his voice soft and low. The pain of heartache echoed through his words.
"I didn't find someone else. I got this job with the Saunders and had to move to New York City, but I didn't have any way to tell you since my letters never made it. I checked with my landlord every week though, hoping something would come, and it never did." I didn't want to cry, but I could feel the tears threatening to escape from behind my eyes. I had cried so much over Dean that I thought I didn't have any more tears left, but apparently I did. "Sergeant Dean Sherman of the 101 Airborne Division. I still remember the address."
"That's correct. It probably was just some stupid government secrecy bullshit," Dean said. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Yours was 1281 Simone Drive."
I nodded, and despite my efforts to refrain from crying, a tear found its way down my cheek. I turned and looked out the window so he wouldn't see it. "What did your letters say?"
"What all letters say to someone you love."
Happy heartache washed over me. He had loved me.
"Dear Rachel," he read from memory. His voice carried gently over the pounding rain, lulling me with his words. His eyes closed as he recited the letter.
"I know that I've only known you for a short time, but I feel as though I've known you my whole life. Every time you smile, my world brightens and it is that smile that is going to get me through the next few months. Our time together was far too short, but it was the happiest I've ever been."
He paused for a moment, his voice cracking with emotion as he continued. "You showed me the beauty in the world. You showed me things worth living for. I went back and bought that painting. I've looked at it so many times, and when I see it, I see you. I see all the goodness and light that can come from the dark, and how everything can be beautiful. My world is a better place because of you.
I hope this letter finds you happy and well. Know that I think of you always.
I love you.