I let the letter go in the light breeze that’s somehow blowing today.
He looks like he wants to say something else, but I stop him, again. Because apparently, I’m not done talking. “Will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
I smile sadly, thinking about this magnificent but so cynical guy.
I think about all the times I encouraged him to read but he shut down. He would withdraw, become cagey like he was ashamed. I think about all the days he took care of his mom but kept it a secret.
I think about his anger, his hatred. His vengefulness.
“You know what your revenge is, Zach? It’s to live a happy life. A life free of them and their abuse. A life where you’re not ashamed or embarrassed about wanting more for yourself. A life where you take care of your mom or help a stranger on the street or pull out a kid from a hole. A life where you read a book and be proud about it. I want you to live that life, Zach, okay? Try to live that life for me. Because the alternative is just too painful for me to even comprehend.”
And then, I can’t take any more.
I have to leave or I’ll drive myself insane, standing here, watching him. So broken and screwed and from some kind of dream.
I jog to the driver’s side of the car, jump in and start it. I push down on the accelerator and peel out, all in one suspended breath.
I don’t look in the rearview mirror, not until I’m about to take a turn and I know he’ll disappear from my sight forever.
He’s standing there, where I left him.
His suit jacket is on the ground and his hands are limp on his sides, and he’s watching me hightail it out of there as his hair sways in the rare breeze.
After that last slice of a glance of him, there’s nothing.
There’s my life without him.
Just the thought of it makes me want to vomit. Though I know it’s also my phobia of the car.
I throw the car in park and fall out of it and retch on the sidewalk.
All the while thinking that I stupidly didn’t kiss him one last time.
Stupid, stupid girl.