That Could Be Us

“You were supposed to take that turn!” 

I held the wheel steady in my hands, my knuckles turning white from the pressure, my nails digging slightly into my palms. The sting kept me focused. I needed the focus. I knew this was wrong.

But I couldn’t stop. Not now.

“Ally, what is wrong with you?” Nate’s voice was icy, I could feel his eyes burning into me. I kept driving, watching the distant horizon hurtle towards us. 

“Nate, please just hold on.” I snapped back, my voice harsher than I had intended. My palms were sweaty now, slicking the leather wheel. My grip was still iron tight. 

“Ally, please tell me what’s going on.” He tried a softer approach, though his gaze did not soften. I could hear the anger simmering just below. 

“Just hold on.” My voice was steady, hiding my anxiety, at least I hoped it was. I heard a hiss of air escape his lips and his eyes finally turned from me. I could see him turn towards the road now out of the corner of my eye. I pressed harder on the gas and our bodies fell slightly backwards in our seats. He stayed quiet. I kept driving. 

I knew this was wrong, okay. I knew that I should have just taken him back to his apartment. I should have pulled into my old parking spot, the one guest spot just hidden by the emerald bushes, slightly overgrown. They always poked me as I slid out of my door, craning as closely as possibly to my car as I edged away from the pricks of those stupid bushes. I should have let him get out, watched him walk away from me, from us, from the life we were supposed to have.

But I couldn’t let go. Not yet. 

Not. Yet.

I turned a corner too hard and I heard the screech of my tires against the pavement. Nate grabbed the handle above his head and darted a look at me, I kept my gaze steady and forward, level, unwavering. 

“Ally, I know where you’re taking me. Please, we shouldn’t do this.” His voice was calmer this time, genuinely. I still felt the anger below, but he kept it hidden.

“Nate, just… please. Okay?” I felt a lump form in my throat that cut me off. Tears stung my eyes. I batted my lashes rapidly to lap them up, keep them away. I didn’t want him to see me fall apart. It couldn’t be over yet. Crying would mean that it’s over. Crying would be the period on the end of us. But we were not ending, this could just be a semicolon. This could just be a pause in our love story, there were so many unwritten chapters left. 

“Ally…” He reached a hand towards me, and I felt myself melt. His touch was enough, the tease of his hand was enough. I finally turned to look at him for a moment. 

His eyes were soft, bushy brows furrowed over his eyes that were tinted red. I could see the pain on his face. I could see the anguish. His hair was disheveled in the way that made my heart melt. I felt like I was staring right into his heart as I looked into those eyes that I fell so in love with.

I turned away before it broke me. I turned back to the road to stare down the distance. The burning in my eyes and my throat pushed me forward. We just have to get there. We just have to make it and this will all go away. We can forget about this and be us. 

I made a turn again, softer this time and pulled into the parking lot. The sun was setting around us, pink and orange and blue flared in the sky. It looked like it was painted for us, just for this moment of connection and forgiveness. It was already turning into the perfect moment, I could feel it. I pulled into a parking spot and parked the car with a jolt. Nate stared forward.

The park was mostly empty, save an older couple holding hands a few yards away, a bulldog walking contentedly in front of them. He looked olden, his hair slightly white in the folds on his body, and his face held years of love and care in his dopey smile, pink tongue out and dripping. 

Nate was watching them too. That could be us.

“That could be us.” I tested the waters.

Nate kept silent, watching them disappear from view around a corner. The sun edged lower in the sky, now hiding behind the treeline in front of us. I watched his face, a face I was always able to interpret but was now completely unreadable. His eyes drifted from the place the couple had been to the empty gazebo in the center of the park. It was deteriorating to say the least, but held character. The white paint had chipped off from years of rain and use, leaving exposed wood underneath, the color of sand. Peonies and petunias were planted around the base of it in a manicured fashion, and green grass surrounded the path of step stones that led up to it. It was beautiful.

“All you have to do is forgive me.” I felt the begging in my voice. “Don’t you remember all that you said to me over there?” I gestured to the gazebo. I could see how it was a year ago: adorned in lilies and eucalyptus, soaked in spring sunlight. Nate there in a black suit, sweating from the heat and smiling with his crooked teeth. I could see the black box clutched tightly in his fingers. I could see him down on one knee. I could feel his arms around me as I said the most beautiful word a person could say:

Yes. 

Forgive me.

“No.” Nate said, stoically. 

I was ripped back into reality with a start. The gazebo sat vacant, lonely. Not a symbol of love and a future to be, not dressed in flowers and brimming with giddiness. It was consumed by shadow now. 

“Nate… Nate, please don’t do this.” I felt the lump, harder now, burning in my throat. “What can I do to make you see how much I love you? What can I do to make you forgive me?” I reached for him.

“Stop!” He yelled louder than I had ever heard him yell before. His soft demeanor shifted, not to anger as it was before, but pure agony. 

I drew my hand back immediately and watched him.

“Ally. You did this. You ruined us. You made the choice. You made your bed and now you have to lie in it!” His voice rose as he continued. “You chose him over me. You decided that one night was worth more than four years.” He stopped, took a breath, and quietly spoke. “This was you.”

My mouth was agape. His chin was to his chest, his eyes directed down at his palms. His words were final, an absolute, a period at the end of us. 

“Take me home,” He paused, “now, Ally. Or I will climb out of this car and walk.” 

I closed my mouth and turned away from him. I gripped the steering wheel with sweaty hands. I felt the release as tears fell freely from my eyes. I put the car in reverse and pulled away from the parking spot, then out onto the road. 

We drove wordlessly. The lump from my throat was liberated as the tears poured out of me, and waves of pain hit me. I dared not look at him. 

I pulled into his apartment complex, ever so slowly went over the speed bumps and arrived at his building. I let the car come to a crawl and stop in my old parking spot by the bushes. 

“I’ll call you later about getting my stuff from your place.” 

I looked up at him, shocked that he said a word. 

“Okay.” It was all I could muster.

Nate unbuckled his seat belt and opened the car door. He stepped out and closed it behind him softly. I watched him walk away, up his stairs and he disappeared behind his door. 

Emptiness. 

It was all I felt. 

I decided to go home and wait by the phone for his call, so I could hear his voice one more time.