“That’s not—”
“Fair?” I laughed, releasing a puff of white breath into the night. “Yeah, well, if I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that nothing is fair.” I pulled my scarf up against the wind. “I should get back inside to my friends.”
I turned to the sound of crutches scraping the sidewalk, and then a hand found my elbow, pulling me to a stop.
“Wait.”
I didn’t shrug him off, afraid I might cause him to fall. And maybe for a moment, I wanted to let myself feel him again — his warmth, his scent, the safety and comfort I once found in him.
My eyes trailed up from where he gripped my arm to where his eyes were watching me.
“I don’t deserve it, Ariana, but I’m going to ask for it, anyway. Please, forgive me.” His voice broke a little, and he sniffed, straightening as much as he could. “I was young. I was fucking stupid. I thought I was protecting you. I thought…” One of his crutches slipped an inch on the wet sidewalk, and he caughthimself with a wince before he continued. “I know none of it matters now. I know we’re in the past and you’re happy and you’ve moved on, and I want that. I do. I want your happiness. But I alsoneedyour forgiveness.” He swallowed. “Please. Please, Ari, forgive me.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until the first tear slid down my cheek. It was so cold it stuck to my jaw, never falling to the ground, but instead marring my face like a tattoo.
“I forgive you for leaving,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “But I’ll never forgive you for staying gone.”
The impact was immediate.
His shoulders slumped, like I’d knocked the last bit of air from his lungs. His grip loosened, his hand falling away from my arm as if he’d forgotten it was there. For a second, he just stood there, glassy-eyed and stunned, staring at me like he’d finally understood it was too late to fix what happened between us, too late to right his wrongs.
I left him standing there in the snow, retreating back into the restaurant and pretending I was fine when I rejoined my colleagues. I drank my wine. I ate my pasta. I convinced myself I was proud of my response.
But I cried until I couldn’t breathe that night, curled into a ball and clutching my pillow like it was Shane.
I knew I’d never see him again, that those would be the final words between us.
I had been strong. I had defended my heart. I had denied the man who hurt me the privilege of forgiveness.
But alone in my bed, I only wished I’d been weak. I wished he were here with me now, holding me, kissing me, telling me he’d never leave again.
I’d lost him for a second time.
And I was the guilty one now.
The Man Who Walked Away
Shane
Present
“You would go to Mars?!” Ariana asked, jaw popped open.
“Youwouldn’t?!”
“No!” She laughed, staring at me like I was insane. “Absolutely not.”
“Not under any circumstance?”
“I can’t think of even one.”
I sat up in the hammock we were sharing, one that was sprawled between two tree trunks on the edge of the University of Tampa campus where it hugged the Hillsborough River. Boats and kayaks passed us as we swung, Curtis Hixon Park alive with activity across the river from where we sat.
The hammock was large, but it didn’t matter the size. It was still impossible to put much space between us. Even when we tried, the way the hammock hung pushed us back to the middle, our thighs touching, Ariana’s hands wrapped tightly together in her lap like she was afraid to accidentally brush mine.
“Not even if you were ninety-nine years old, slowly dying, and they offered you the chance to be the first to go?”
Ariana considered it. “No, not even then.”
