I can’t take anyone trying to stop me anymore.
“Nah, you won’t see me asking you to stay. I already made that mistake with one woman in my life. I’m just here to keep my son from making the same one as me.”
“That’s not your job. He made his choice.”
“Yeah, you’re right. He did. I watched him make it a long time ago on this very dock. He just needs a little help seeing it too. You know, some people jump all on their own, while others need a gentle push. Miles thinks he fights for what he wants, but he does it from ten feet in the air without ever leaping.”
“That’s very philosophical of you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m leaving town today. Right now, actually,” I say.
“Uh-huh.” His eyes flick from where I remain planted on the dock to my waiting suitcases.
“No, I am,” I insist. “Just taking a minute to say my goodbyes.”
“Yeah, no, I see that,” he comments. His stare is still trained on my packed bags that I’ve ignored for the last hour. Who knows how long he’s been watching me for.
“I’m going,” I huff, forcing myself to stand, when he grabs my hand.
“I think it speaks volumes that you’re still here,” he says, and I stiffen.
I’ve been planning to leave all summer but… I don’twantto leave. At least I don’t without…
“Shep, I gotta go!”
I lean down and kiss his cheek before abandoning my luggage on the dock. I’ve said my goodbyes to everyone but one person. The one I’ve saidenoughgoodbyes to in one lifetime. The one I never want to say goodbye to again.
I’m done running.
I zip through town and wind my way up the canyon to get to Bloomington Lake in a race against the rising sun.
I can’t miss him, I can’t.
My eyes scan the brush for any sign of him running back down the canyon, and my heart gallops in my chest the closer I make it to the parking lot without spotting him. I kick up a cloud of dust beneath my tires as I skid into the nearest parking spot and take off up the trail. I get to the top of the first slope and bend in half, panting to catch my breath.
I shouldn’t have abandoned that elliptical machine this summer. I take three deep breaths with my hands planted on my bent knees when two feet skid to a stop.
“Teddy?”
“Miles,” I pant, grabbing his hand. “No time.” I gasp for another breath. “Run”—gasp—“with me.”
“Teddy, what’s going on? Are you all right? You look like you’re about to pass out.”
He’s shirtless, of course, and has sweat running down his midsection, but breathes in an even rhythm.
“Okay, mister hotshot. Carry me then!” I demand, clambering up his back.
He lifts me by the undersides of my thighs.
“That way! Hurry!” I boss him, and he starts jogging with me on his back up the trail. He ambles across the rickety log and propels us forward until we’re standing in front of the jute rope that dangles in the very spot our summer began.
His eyebrows meet his hairline as I rip off my clothes, each layer feeling like the shedding of a chrysalis. I’m thankful I’ve gotten in the habit of putting on a bathing suit every time I leave the house, even when I planned to leave today. My eyes flit to the horizon, and I rush to say everything I need to get out before the sun crests.
“Miles, you were right. I was running. I thought that’s what I needed to feel like myself again, for me to be happy. But then I spent this summer with you, and while you held me at arm’s length because you were afraid of hurting me, what you were really doing was allowing me the space I needed to find myself again. You never once expected me to remember anything, and I got to fall in love with you as this messy version of myself. I know you’re afraid to leave here and for what that might mean for your dad. I am too.”
The words I need him to hear are spilling out of me, and even if they don’t change a thing, I can’t stop them.
“I may not have a lot figured out yet, but I do know I’m someone who feels the mostmewhen I’m with you. Someone who believes that the trials of your past only serve to shape the stronger version of the younow. It’s why, for me, there is nothing to forgive about the accident. It forced me to grow. In your quiet, steady way, you taught me to be patient for the things I want. And I know now that all I want isyou. I can’t leave here without you. I don’t know what comes next for us, but I think there’s beauty in that, you know? We get to write whatever wewant. All it takes is a leap of faith… a jump from a rope swing ten feet in the air.”
I hold out my hand. “Jump with me?”
