“Here With Me” by The Killers is playing on the radio with Brandon Flowers lamenting about a lost love that he wants back.
I feel a pinch in my chest and then a sting of tears in my eyes so fierce that I can’t fight them.
Grasping ahold of the steering wheel, I drop my head against it, and I cry.
I cry for the choice I had to make all those years ago. I cry for not really having a choice.
Back then, I thought giving up Adam would be the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my life.
Now, I’m not sure.
Because this here right now, having him but not really having him, is far more painful than anything I’ve ever felt. And I’ve felt a lot of pain.
Back then, at least I could cling on to the hope that some part of him still loved me, that I wasn’t alone in my feelings.
But whatever Adam did feel for me died a long time ago, and I am more alone now than I was in those ten years without him.
There is nothing worse than loving someone when they don’t love you back, especially when you have only yourself to blame for it.
The song ends.
I dry my face with a tissue, take a deep breath, and turn the radio off. I put my car in drive, and I stay the whole journey home in complete silence.
“I can’t believe it’s been a year.” I tilt my head back from its place on Adam’s lap, so I can look up at him.
We’re on the beach by my rock—well, our rock now. We’re celebrating our one-year anniversary with a picnic—well, pizza and sparkling water, like we had on our first date, so it’s a less fancy type of picnic. But it’s perfect for me, just like he is.
It’s a year to the day when we first talked on the beach. I did wonder if our anniversary should have been tomorrow, the day we had our first date, but Adam said it was today. He said the day we first talked was the start of us.
He can say the sweetest things at times.
“I hope you’re not saying that like it’s a bad thing.” He grins down at me.
“Of course not, silly.” I tap his chest with the back of my hand. “It’s a good thing, a really good thing. Just…time sure does go by quickly.”
“Especially when you’re having fun.” He winks.
He’s totally referring to sex, the huge amount of sex we have.
Since we slept together for that first time, not a day has passed when we haven’t had sex.
I’ve had a lot of fun with Adam teaching me all kinds of new things and positions. And I know for sure he’s had a lot of fun, too, because he tells me so often.
I stare back out over the water, thinking about time. We don’t have much of it left.
Time is creeping up on us. Adam will have to leave for Harvard in just a little over a month.
I’m not ready to let him go. I don’t feel like we’ve had enough time together.
And I worry that he’s going to go to Boston, and make a whole new life for himself that doesn’t include me, and I’ll lose him.
I let out a small sigh.
“What’s up?” He taps my forehead with his fingertip.
“Nothing.” I look up at him. “Just thinking about when you have to leave for Boston. Stupid really. I shouldn’t be thinking of it on our special day.”
“Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
This is what he always does whenever I bring up Boston—changes the subject or distracts me with something else.
I don’t know why he won’t talk to me about it. Maybe it’s because he feels as sad as I do about him leaving.
But he can’t ignore it forever.
Lifting off him, I get to my feet and brush sand off my butt, which somehow managed to sneak onto our blanket.
“What about our stuff? Should we take it back to the house first?” I ask him.
“Nah. Leave it. It’ll be fine.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder, so I put my arm around his waist and snuggle into his side.
We walk along the shore for a while in blissful silence. The beach is clear of people, except for a few random joggers.
The only sound is the splash of water washing over our feet as we walk.