It took much longer for me to type such long sentences than Della, and my leg bounced as I pressed send, nervousness trickling through my blood. It wasn’t a simple matter of running like previous times. We had things holding us here. We had bills and people. Or at least…Della did. She was more adult than I was in this scenario, and once again, my mind tripped down memory lane, feeding me images of her young and innocent and untouchable, doing its best to unhinge my resolve that this was what I wanted. No matter how hard.
Della: I’ve already written regarding my course and withdrawn, stating a family emergency. I used part of the rent money to pay for the first semester—which I doubt I’ll get back. But where we’re going, we don’t need the cash. I quit my job a while back. I’m not dating David; he turned me down when he realised I wasn’t over you, and the apartment is easy. Terminate the lease, put our furniture back on the street corners where we got them from, pack a bag and…let’s go home.
My heart pounded as a breeze kissed my cheek, tugging me toward the black spaces where the city lights didn’t reach. The darkness full of leaves and rivers.
Home.
I knew where my home was.
Did she?
Me: Home means no running water, no supermarkets, no roof. Are you sure you want that?
Della: I don’t know if reminding you of a younger me is a good idea, but on the night of my seventeenth and your twenty-seventh, I gave you that tent. Remember what I said?
I groaned under my breath. That was one memory that wasn’t just remembered but polished daily and treasured. She’d let me see behind her fakery that night. She’d painted a future that I’d desperately wanted, even while believing it could never happen.
Me: You asked if I intended to stay here and said we had to start thinking about our future. That you wanted to return to the forest, and that’s why you bought me that tent.
Della: And you asked if I was sure. You made a point to tell me there would be no boys, no jobs, no school. No future out there in the wilderness.
Me: And you set me straight by saying there was no future apart from with me.
I looked at the moon again, tension slipping away. I was torturing myself about wanting Della as deeply as I did when, for so many years, I’d already been living with the same sin. I’d already accepted the mess, even then. And I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise it now. Not when we were so close.
My lips curled into a hesitant smile as my mind raced with everything we’d have to achieve. Every goodbye we had to finalise. Every beginning we were about to embrace.
Standing from the bench and striding toward the apartment, hopefully for the last time, my fingers flew, and I sent.
Me: Pack a bag. We leave in two days.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
REN
2018
TWO DAYS
Forty-eight hours to delete our entire existence as the Wilds.
Della and I kept our distance while we systematically dismantled our world. She focused on selling, donating, and sorting through her stuff at David’s house, while I lugged our fifth-hand couch up the steps of our place, and dragged it to the same street corner we’d salvaged it from.
My body proved just how badly I’d treated it the past few months and the residual cough from the flu made tasks last longer than I wanted.
I didn’t like that Della had refused to sleep at our apartment, insisting that she owed David too much to abandon him without explaining and they needed a proper goodbye.
The urge to forbid her—the desire to beg her to be with me instead, proved I needed to keep my possessiveness in check. I’d never stopped her from hanging with her friends before.
I wouldn’t start now.
Instead, I threw myself into my tasks, doing my best to tie up loose ends quickly so Della was mine and we could leave.
Scrawling a hasty poster, I announced a one-day garage sale and opened our apartment to anyone who wanted cutlery, crockery, bedding, an ancient TV, decrepit motorcycle, and anything else we couldn’t carry.
I made sure to wash and pack clothes for both Della and me. Winter jackets, summer t-shirts, and every season in between. She still had her bag that we’d bought when we left the Wilsons, and I studiously ensured our rations and belongings were evenly distributed, even though I put all the heavy stuff into mine. The two pots for cooking, the many lighters I couldn’t function without, the multiple knives I carried even though I constantly had at least three on my person at all times.
Della messaged me on the first day of our self-eviction from this city and said she’d called the landlord, cancelled our lease, and asked for our returned bond to be paid in cash. We didn’t have a fixed contract anymore, so we weren’t breaking any rules, and I left her in charge of cutting off the electricity and gas, leaving the apartment as dark as the forest on my last night in so-called civilisation.
With Della staying one last night at David’s, I bunkered down in the empty space, lying on a thin yoga mat I’d stolen a few months ago in the very same sleeping bag I’d washed and prepared for our upcoming disappearance back home.
All that existed from the life we’d created in this apartment were empty walls and lonely carpet. Not one plate left in the cupboards, not a single blanket left in the laundry.
All gone.
My phone buzzed in the darkness.
Della: I know we said I’d swing by our place and stuff the rest of my clothes into the backpack you have prepared for me, but…David has requested you come here.
I shot upright, jack-knifing off the floor.
What the fuck for?
Ignoring my chugging heart, I wrote back:
Me: What did you tell him? Is he planning on killing me? Does he have a gun?
Della: What? Don’t be ridiculous. He won’t kill you. And I told him the truth. He already knew it anyway.
Me: Goddammit, Della. I feel sick about this already without being judged by him. I’m the guy who raised you, who is now stealing you into a life of uncertainty, and who stole you from him. Of course, he wants to kill me.
Della: He wants to understand. That’s all. Love hasn’t been kind to him either, Ren. And you did beat him up, after all. You kind of owe him an apology.
Me: I beat him up because he stole you from me.
She took a long time to reply, and I could hear her thoughts as if they were my own. He didn’t steal me. You pushed me into his arms. He didn’t take my virginity. I gave it to him as I was over being hurt by you.
My shoulders slouched, and I reclined back into my sleeping bag, cursing myself all over again. By the time her message buzzed in the dark, I was ready to agree to whatever she wanted if only to try to make amends to her, David, and frankly, even to myself.
Della: Closure, Ren. I think we both need it. I think you need to understand what we’re doing. You need to accept that we’re leaving together—just like old times. But unlike old times, we know exactly what we’re going to do out there…alone. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. You can’t imagine a life of happiness with us side by side and believe it will be like before. It will be better. Because this time, we aren’t lying. We ARE going to sleep with each other. We ARE going to learn about each other on an entirely different level. And if you can’t accept that in front of David, then…I’m actually terrified that you’ll never be able to accept it. What’s to stop you from changing your mind if this gets too hard? What if you can’t stop the images of me as a kid when you see me naked? What if you break down the moment you slip inside me and can’t go through with this? Where does that leave me? What will that mean for us? I want this, Ren. You have no idea how MUCH I want this. But I’m also so scared because if this doesn’t work, if you can’t accept it, then I’ll lose so much more than just a lover. I’ll lose you all over again, and not having you was the worst thing I’ve ever endured.