Page 39 of Forbidden

Chapter Thirteen

Shane

Rosalie's wordsechoed through my head all evening. I couldn't escape them.

You should go.

I met someone else.

Over and over I heard her tell me we were done, that she was seeing someone else. Despite her words and how much they stung, I didn't believe her. I refused to believe we were done. What we had was special, and I knew she felt that way too. I didn't know why she was ending things so quickly, but she had to have her reasons and if she wanted to end things with me, I wasn’t going to get in her way. I had to leave.

I didn't have any place to go, but I couldn't stay in that house with her in the next room. I couldn’t stay knowing I couldn’t touch her when she was so close. Leaving her was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I didn't have a choice.

I packed my things, wrote a note, and left the house. The pain of losing Rosalie was the worst feeling I felt since my grandmother passed away. I felt so lost then, I thought nothing could feel as bad as that, but every time Rosalie’s words screamed through my head, they ripped my heart apart even more.

You should go.

I met someone else.

Without thinking, I walked about a mile to the bus stop and figured I would get on the next bus. It didn’t matter where it was going, I just needed to get as far away as possible.

The bus hissed as it stopped. It wasn’t the usual public transportation I was used to taking, but the door opened like he was waiting for passengers so I climbed up the steps.

“How much?” I asked.

The driver had a full head of curly silver hair and wore large, gold-rimmed glasses. He gave me a quick once over, then met my gaze.

“I know that look, young man. You’re goin’ to the end of the line, aren’t you?” His voice was gravelly, but kind. “Just take a seat. I can tell you need any help you can get.”

My instinct was to make a snide comment about how he didn’t know anything about me, but I could use a friend. Even if it was just for the ride.

“Where we headed?” I asked, sliding into the seat behind him. The bus was half full, but it was only 6am. I was lucky to get a bus so early.

“Philadelphia. This is one of the few buses that goes there from here,” he said as he tapped the dashboard with some pride in his voice. “We have a few more stops before we cruise into the city.” He checked the oncoming traffic before turning the bus back onto the road.

I settled back into my seat with thoughts of my grandmother and living in Philadelphia with her. I used to think my grandmother was the only person who truly loved and cared about me, the only person who ever would. But that was before Rosalie.

Once the bus reached cruising speed, the driver glanced at me in his rearview mirror.

“You’re lookin’ like you need to get away. Home troubles? Nah… it’s because of a girl, isn’t it?” He looked up into his rearview mirror and nodded as if he was answering his own question. “I’m pretty sure I had that same look when I left home almost fifty years ago. Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe the things I was runnin’ from. Things were so crazy that I had to do the unthinkable. I had to leave my girl.” He shook his head momentarily lost in the past. “I never regretted it though. Leaving was the best decision I ever made. Might be for you too.”

I didn’t answer the driver. I didn’t want to talk. I was too busy trying to forget, and everything was still too fresh. I looked up and noticed the driver looking back at me through the mirror while he nodded his head again.

“You’ve had a shit life so far, but it got better because of her, didn’t it?” he asked. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to talk either. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t talk when I was in your shoes a long time ago.” His brow wrinkled, and his full cheeks drooped with sadness as he remembered the past. “Get some rest, kid. I have a feeling you have a long day ahead of you.”

* * *

When I woke up,the bus was pulling into the main terminal in Philadelphia. I waited for everyone to get off the bus before I got up from my seat. Thinking about the driver’s kindness, I placed my hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Glad I could help,” he said as he patted my hand. “Best of luck in your journey.”

As I stepped off the bus, I turned around to face the driver. Something he said had been nagging at me, and I needed to know the answer.

“You said you left your girl, and you don’t regret it. Did you ever see her again?”

He smiled and tapped on the dashboard like he had earlier, but this time I noticed a small photograph of him with a woman smiling at the camera.

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