Taking the Road Not Taken

By Suzy Langevin

After she climbed into the front seat, they drove for a while in silence, winding through the random thicket of suburban streets around her house. He didn’t really have a plan, but somehow ended up parked by the playground where they’d had a picnic that summer. It was one of his favorite memories of her, the setting sun casting her in a beautiful glow as they sat on the swings, talking about nothing and everything all at once.

Now, the park was covered in a layer of icy snow, desolate with just the streetlights from the road illuminating the lot. It seemed like an apt metaphor, the place that had once been so golden frozen over, just like them.

She stared at her hands, messing with the mittens she’d pulled from her coat pockets. He knew he had to say something, but he had no idea where to begin. “I—I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said instantly, still not looking up from her hands.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened over Thanksgiving, you know, that we… And I owe you an apology.”

“An apology? Why? Do you regret it?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I don’t. But I should. We broke up because we knew it would be too hard to make the whole long-distance thing work. And it was really selfish of me to come back here and pretend otherwise. Even if…” He broke off abruptly.

“Even if what?”

He shut his eyes tight, knowing that once he said this, there wasn’t any going back. “Even if I’m still in love with you.”

He opened his eyes, daring to see her reaction. He couldn’t be entirely sure, but he imagined that maybe he looked just as desperate.

When she didn’t respond, he felt a tight knot form in his stomach. “We made the right decision,” he continued. “You deserve someone who can be present for you, and right now, that’s not me. But I have spent the last four months wishing it could be. And I don’t even really know why I’m saying this to you, it won’t change anything. So maybe this is selfish, too.”

“Look—” she started, but he cut her off.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to tell me that you think the same thing. I know it’s too much to ask.”

“That’s the thing, it’s not.”

“What?”

She gave a small, mirthless laugh. “I didn’t stop loving you just because you’re a plane ride away now. But come on. Can you really see any possible way we make this work? We’re in two totally different places, and not just geographically. And I can’t be the thing that holds you back.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think we could just…”

“What?”

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to say, or do, or any of it. But I’m here for the next few weeks, anyway. And all I really want to do is spend it with you.”

“So what, we just ignore that we’re going to have to go our separate ways again?”

“I don’t know, maybe? Is that selfish?”

“I mean, I won’t ask you to stay. Will you ask me to wait for you?”

“I can’t do that to you. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not going to be with me.”

“This seems like a bad idea.”

“I know, I just—we may be in two different chapters, but I’m not ready to close the book on us.”

She went silent, toying with her mittens again.

He reached over, grabbing her hands. “Whatever we decide we are, this week or next week or next year.. the road will always lead back to you, one way or another.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am. And maybe we don’t end up together, in the end, I don’t know. But right now, I need this, I need you.”

Her eyes were closed, and he could practically hear her thoughts, stuck between what she knew was best, and what she actually wanted. “I really thought we’d be able to move on, just be friends. But the minute you’re here, I just want to hear you to call me ‘babe’ again.”

“So, maybe that’s what we do? Just give into this thing without caring too much where it takes us.”

“We know exactly where it takes us. In two different directions again. It hurts so much.” Her voice was heavy with held back tears. “And I’d still go back and do it again, over and over.”

“So, can I…”  He leaned forward and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. He kissed her gently, almost hesitantly at first. She shifted further forward to deepen the kiss, and a warmth spread over him, despite the cold.

When they separated, she gave him a small smile. “I’ve missed that.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t want to miss it when I don’t have to. Don’t want to miss you while you’re right next to me.”

“So don’t.” The kiss was different this time, more assured but also hungrier, craving more. He slid his hands out of his gloves and cradled her face in his hands, just wanting to feel her skin against his however he could.

She broke away from him. “We should get back,” she said reluctantly.

“Right, of course, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” she assured him, that smile back on her lips.

They rode back in the same quiet as when they’d left. He pulled into the driveway, leaving the car idling while he walked her to the door.

“Night, babe,” he said, a small smile playing over his lips as he placed a kiss on her forehead before she disappeared inside.

He got back in his car and let out a long breath. He had no idea how he was supposed to feel right now, but the overwhelming thing he felt was home.

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