He eyeballs it cautiously, sits down on my uniform for more assurance. I then see that I need something to hold on to.
I can’t help but take pause at his back. The outline. The indentions of muscle. The wide frame.
Cautiously, as if I’m about to pet a wild animal, I slide my hands around his waist, locking my hands together. The muscles along his stomach are as firm as bone, contracting with each breath he takes. And with that being said, he sighs and drops his head for a moment. I take it he isn’t used to someone touching him, holding him, being close like this.
“Should I be worried we aren’t wearing helmets?” I ask with my chin resting on his shoulder. His build vibrates as he chuckles, and the bike roars to life.
We take off, and the wind pours over my face with density as thick as water.
The sky shadows the earth with darkness and silver clouds. The moonbeams through them, overpowering the earth’s fragile atmosphere. I squeeze his waist tighter as I rest my cheek against his back. I haven’t felt this at peace in a long time. A fantasy slips into my mind, against every ounce of my control. An image of Dessin holding my hand, pressing the back of it to his full lips. Traveling the world on this motorcycle, sleeping under the stars, laughing about inside stories while he holds me in his arms.
I shut my eyes hard. I wish we hadn’t met like this. I wish we had met in a different way.
51. “If We Had Met a Different Way.”
Despite the beating of thewind, I tune into Dessin’s heartbeat, and I count and memorize how fast it drums inside of him. Trees canopy over the dirt road we travel upon while the city of glowing lights, castles, and painted faces fades behind us into the night.
As we slow down, there’s a small opening of trees parted, just enough for a person to walk through… I recognize it.
“I….I know this place.” We pull over to the side of the road. He helps me off of the bike with both hands.
“Is that right?”
The wind is pushing against our bodies, flying into the opening of trees down a very familiar walkway. I am instantly drawn to walk inside. My mood lifts like a butterfly from a cocoon, unfurling my wings and catching the wind as I fan them out in flight.
“I’ve been here before, Dessin.” My eyes hover over the dark opening. Dessin walks backward to it, facing me.
“Have you?” He urges me to follow him inside. A slight twinkle of a smile unhinges across my lips.
We walk into the opening, side by side. He is much taller than me, wide broad shoulders, and his steps are heavier than mine—sinking into the soft dirt. Above us is an evergreen canopy of trees tangled among one another. The crickets are a symphony tonight, humming into the sleepy forest.
If he’s taking me to the spot I think he is… Then the last time I was there was when I let Scarlett’s ashes go, into the wind, into the lagoon where I knew she could rest.
“Are you an indoor or outdoor kind of man?” I break my own train of thought and ask him the first thing that comes to mind.
He chuckles.
“What?”
“I’ve been locked away in a room for a long time. Which do you think I prefer?”
“Oh.” I look down and blush, plucking a pine cone off the ground. “But you don’t really expect me to believe that you never saw daylight in that time?”
He glances at me from the corner of his eye. The corner of his mouth pulls upward.
I hop over a root bulging from the dirt. “I want something while we are here…”
He raises his eyebrows and grins, giving me athis-oughta-be-goodlook. “Oh, do share.”
The leaves hanging from the trees begin to change to a bright bloodred color. It is the same place I let Scarlett go. The same place I’d seen as a magical portal into a new world as a little girl. I lose my train of thought for a moment, with a memory tugging away at my heart. “I’m ready to hear what happened to you.”
Dessin stops mid-stride and studies my expression.
“And I’m ready to tellyouwhat happened tome,” I say.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to share.” He steps closer.
I nod. “I’ve been ready for a while. I hope you are too.”
