We fought the unforgiving sand to run toward each other like a scene from a movie. When I reached him, I flung my body forward and he caught me, lifting me into his arms as I wrapped my limbs around him.
“Screw it,” he said. “I need my fucking goodbye kiss.”
He kissed me half-drunk and breathless until the world spun around us.
Somewhere in the world, final classroom bells rang, my friends threw graduation caps into the air, and my seat remained empty.
Because I was here. With him. In this moment, where I belonged.
When he put me down, fire flared from his eyes into mine.
“You will always be apart of me, Emersyn Tyler. And every game, and every goal, and everything I ever do will be because you showed me what it means to be brave. To take your shot and not take anything for granted.”
I shook my head, afraid I would burst if I told him how I felt. “I’m not good with words like you are. I’ll have to put how I feel into a painting and send it to you.”
He grinned. “I would love that.” Kissing me sweetly on the forehead, he sighed. “Listen, forget the distance. Call me, text me, E-mail me, write me, paint me something. Send a smoke signal. Whatever you need, whenever you need, okay?”
I wanted to say okay. But I knew it didn’t work like that. Not in real life.
This was goodbye, not a time to make promises we’d break and commit to obligations we couldn’t fulfill. I couldn’t turn what we’d had into that, into hurt feelings and bitter resentment. He’d come all this way to give us both closure, not to start a long-distance relationship. It was the end of what had been and the beginning of the parts of our lives that no longer included one another.
“I love you, Aiden Singleton. I will always love you,” was all I said. Because that was all I had to give.