Leighton
We finish our lunch in silence.
Pay the bill in silence.
Walk back to the car in silence.
Ryan says nothing when I plug my cell into the aux, boot up my breakup song playlist. It’s a modified version of the one I made after things ended with Dave.
Destiny’s Child’s Survivor fills the car.
Ryan pulls onto the sleepy street. Cuts through the neighborhood to our left.
I watch five-bedroom houses and lush green lawns blur together until the song fades into the outro.
Our breath fills the car. Then the next song kicks in. Drowns every other sound.
He keeps his eyes on the road. His hands on the steering wheel. His attention elsewhere.
I want it back.
I want him back.
But there’s no way I’m telling him who Mr. Powers is.
And there’s no way I’m getting him back without peeling back the walls around my heart.
It’s only fair to hand him the key if I want to unlock him.
Ryan is wrong.
I trust him.
But I’ve placed my trust in the wrong people way too many times. What if I’m wrong about him too?
It seems impossible.
I’m not a naïve high school girl anymore. I’m not falling for I love you, sweetie, let me show you with my body anymore.
I’m smarter.
Or at least less stupid.
Ryan isn’t going to run away if I tell him why I left Rock Bottom.
But it’s still a terrifying risk.
He stops at a crosswalk. Watches a young mom walk her twin sons across the street.
“Is this where you grew up?” I ask.
“Close, yeah.”
“I’ve never seen the house.”
“You will.”
“Oh?”