Page 55 of Ms. Lead

OLIVER

IS IT REALLY YOU?

We drive back to the house in relative silence, and I can tell we both feel the end approaching rapidly. The trip allows me to consider what happened while we were at the Grand Canyon today. First, the effect of the extreme heat on my body is kind of scary. Not only was I dizzy in the helicopter on several occasions, but it also worsened my leg's numbness. I think I hid my resulting limp successfully from Bianca, but who knows. She’s too observant for her own good sometimes.

And the pièce de résistance, my nearly falling ass over tea kettle to my certain death into the canyon itself when suddenly hit by a wave of vertigo. I should have known that the heat would affect me this way and prepared for it. I also should have known that my balance isn’t the greatest shortly after waking, so the nap in the car wasn’t the best idea either.

I can blame the heat for everything all I want, but it’s me. I’m the one putting myself in these stupid positions to begin with. I definitely know better. I just wanted to appear normal to Bianca for one fucking day. Just one. And I failed that in magnificent style.

It’s no wonder things have been strangely quiet between us today. She’s probably counting down the minutes to be rid of me. I would be. And me? I’m counting the minutes until my heart gets ripped out of me. A dark sense of dread is washing over me already, and I imagine it will stay with me for a very long time, if not forever, however long that might be.

When we reach the house, we dance around each other uneasily for a bit before agreeing on sitting by a fire in the firepit out back. Bianca grabs a glass of wine, and I make a mug of hot chocolate.

Once a decent fire is going, I sit next to her and place an arm around her shoulders. I need to take in as much Bianca as I can tonight because it needs to last.

Instead of looking into the fire, I look up at the vast roof of constellations above us. The moon's brightness washes out most of the starlight, but it’s still better than anything I can view at home.

Bianca leans against me, turning her attention to the sky as well.

“There’s supposed to be meteor showers now, but I don’t think we’ll see anything this early or with the moon out like that.” As soon as she says this, a bright blue streak quickly shoots across a small section of the sky and disappears. That makes her giggle and take a sip of wine. “Nevermind.”

We sit silently for a long while, alternating our attention to the fire and the sky. I’m soaking in her presence beside me because I know that this is what I will miss the most when I leave.

I am typically good company for myself and don’t mind living alone, unlike a lot of people who need to be with someone at all times. I think that’s now changed for me. It’s not that I’ve gotten used to being with Bianca. It’s more that I want to be with her.

“So, you go back home tomorrow….”

Shit. Here we go.

“I do.”

I don’t want to do this. I have to do this. But how?

“Have you thought about what happens with us after tomorrow?”

I can hear the hopefulness in her voice, and that shroud of dread covering me earlier starts to suffocate me. I really don’t want to hurt her, but we don’t have good options.

“Have you considered moving to London?” I ask softly. I don’t want to sound like this is all on her. It isn’t.

“I have, actually.”

This surprises the shit out of me. Could this be a possibility after all?

“Oh? And what are you thinking?” I don’t even try to cover my own hopefulness.

“I’m thinking I still need to think about it some more. That would be a big step.”

“I see,” I say quickly, my hope disappearing as fast as that meteor we saw.

“And what about you? Have you considered moving here?”

“Unfortunately, the dreadful heat of Nevada and I are neither mates nor friendly acquaintances. So, no. A move here is not in my future.”

I feel her nod against my shoulder, and we both fall quiet again. This is absolute torture, and the pain that’s been growing inside me as my departure approaches is now all-consuming. A few more hours and I’ll be entirely empty.

“So, what are we going to do in the meantime? Any ideas?”

That hope is back in her words, stabbing at me like knives. Maybe becoming empty and numb is for the better since I won’t have to feel this anymore.

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