The Space Between Us(108)

Perhaps the hardest part was thinking about the night before I left. Those few hours we had together where I allowed myself to imagine what would come next. When I imagined everything I had within me and how much I wanted to give it to her, how much I wanted to share it with her.

My phone rang and I grumbled. I didn’t like the interruptions. I had thrown myself into my work in an effort at distraction. I saw that Reeve was calling and grumbled even more.

“What do you want?” I answered, trying to sound just as annoyed as I actually was.

“That was a very rude way to answer your phone,” she said snidely.

“Good, my intended tone came across just as I’d hoped it would.”

“You’re an * when you’re heartbroken.”

“What is it that you want, Reeve? Don’t you have a husband to annoy?”

“I was driving past Mr. McBride’s house a few minutes ago and I saw some strange men looking in the windows. I would have stopped, but I’ve got the kids with me and I didn’t feel safe. Do you think you could go over there and see if anything looks strange?”

“Yeah, of course,” I felt like an ass for being rude to her. Of course I didn’t want her confronting homeless squatters with her kids. “Sorry, Reeve. I’m not always trying to be an *.”

“I know. You’re sad. I get it.” All I could do was sigh in response because she was right. I was sad.

“What did the men look like?”

“The homeless squatters?” She sounded confused.

“Yeah, them.”

“They looked like homeless squatters, you jackass.” At least she was laughing when she swore at me this time.

“Ok. I’ll go and take a look in a little bit. I still have a few things to finish up here.”

“Asher, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go after dark. What if they’re dangerous?”

“The homeless squatters?” I spat her words back at her with a smirk on my face.

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Promise?”

“Watch yourself. I might be your only friend.”

“You might have a point.”

“Don’t wait too long, Asher. You might miss it.” These last words sounded important, wise almost.

“Ok… I’ll leave soon.”

“Good. You work too much anyway.” And she was back.

I found myself turning onto the street I avoided for weeks. My mom tried to get me to come over for dinner multiple times but I couldn’t bring myself to go there. I didn’t want to see the house where we shared so many things together. But there I was, pulling around the corner, straining to see the house she’d moved into so long ago. The girl with the dark hair who stole my heart.

As I drove closer, I didn’t see any homeless men milling around. Nothing looked out of place except for the paper that was on the door. Until Charlie made arrangements to sell the house, all communication regarding it was supposed to come to my office, handled by Phil. I rolled my eyes wondering what Phil had f*cked up. I pulled in to the driveway and parked my car. I made it to the door and pulled the paper down, flipped it over, and began to read.

Dear Asher,

Don’t crumple the paper up and throw it away, at least, not until you’ve read it. I know you’re angry at me and I know you have every right to be. All I am asking is for the opportunity to explain myself. I need to explain better than I did that night. Please. Meet me at the swing set.

Love,

Charlie

My heart pumped rapidly and my hands sweated. I hadn’t expected to hear from her, and I definitely didn’t expect her to be here. I thought she would become a ghost again, a figment of my desires. Despite everything that had happened between us, I couldn’t change the one thing about me that would always be true; I couldn’t stay away from her if she needed me.

I turned and began jogging through the neighborhood, weaving through cars and mailboxes, taking the shortest route that we carved out some twenty years previous. The paper became crumpled in my hand, but I never let it go; I carried it with me. I came up to the alley, the cut-through that led from the neighborhood to the school yard.

The sun began to set so the alley was veiled by shadows. I could almost see our pre-teen selves walking under the tree canopy, talking about school, or a movie we wanted to see, or our plans for the weekend. Then I pictured us at sixteen, walking hand-in-hand to the school to steal moments alone, to escape the fatherly watch of Charles, to explore each other. I ran out the other side of the alley, thinking maybe I’d catch a glimpse of her on the swings, but I saw no one.

Disappointment shot through me and I cursed myself for the emotion. I should be disappointed she wasn’t there. I shouldn’t want to see her. But I did and it was useless to deny it. I stopped jogging and walked the rest of the way to the swings. My heartbeat sped up again when I saw the note taped to one of the swings. I picked it up and eagerly opened it.

My Asher,

I’m so glad you’re here. I’m still waiting for you, but you’ll have to travel a little farther to get to me. I promise though – it will be worth it.

Meet me where you first told me you loved me.

Xoxo,

Charlie

The bridge. The stream. I ran there, jogging wouldn’t get me there fast enough. Halfway through the parking lot of the school, I ditched my suit jacket, throwing it down on the ground, thinking I would come back for it later. It took me less than five minutes to run to the park and I didn’t stop until I made it to the bridge. It was getting darker, the sun set, and I squinted into the dusk and tried to find her. She wasn’t waiting on the bridge, but she wouldn’t be. I told her I loved her under the bridge, pressing her up against the support beam, holding her face in my hands. I walked down the bank to the small creek and followed it under the bridge. There sat another note for me.