Runaway

The trees seemed to move past behind us, pushing us closer to where the starless sky meets the sea. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling. Her hair was caught up in the wind, sending the intoxicating scent to me. I inhaled deeply, half dreaming, half contented. I shifted gear to third and the world outside moved faster. I looked at you from the corner of my eyes, your head leaning on your folded arms on the door frame. The windows were down, the midnight air crisp and cold, but I was warm. Mountains appeared on either side of the tranquil road as the sky turned purple with streaks of fire. I turned off the radio. I can hear you breathe. I can hear my heartbeat. You lift your head up and inhaled. You turned to look at me, “I can smell the sea!”

I smiled to myself, thinking this was the right thing to do.

I could almost hear the waves crashing.

You climbed out before I stopped the engine, running out to the seawall. I watched you remove your high heeled shoes, your shoulders dipping one after the other. Then you ran down the steps to the sand, stopping only once just to turn around and smile up at me, “Are you coming or not?”

As if I could stand still when your hair’s a mess, your dress strikingly out of place. It was made for your wedding.

The memory of that afternoon came back. I went down the seawall and ran to you. If I was even a second too late, I could’ve lost you forever.

I held your face in both my hands, lifting your eyes to mine. “I’ll take you back to him. I can wait for you.” I could feel the emptiness spread through my chest as I said the words, wanting to believe myself. Waiting - hoping - to hear her say...

“No,” your hand travelled to my neck, clutching my hair. “I’m staying with you.”

The waves invited us, reaching our feet and ruined your wedding dress.