More Than an Escape–1
The next day we drive so much more.
We drive through miles of cracked desert and sun bleached signs, the kind of endless
stretch that makes the road feel like it’s going nowhere. But inside the car, there’s music playing and I feel like I can breathe.
We’re only a few miles outside Solince when Zaid pulls into a gas station off the highway. I stay in the care while he heads inside.
When he comes back, he dumps a handful of snacks in my lap. “Thought you’d want
options.”
I eye the mix, spicy chips, chocolate covered almonds, a slushie with two straws.
“What, no pickles this time?” I ask, smirking. I almost grabbed it and threw it out the window yesterday when the car smell was too much.
His mouth twitches. “Didn’t want you littering the highway again.”
I roll my eyes.
He leans against the doorframe, holding the slushie out to me. “At least I got white cherry
this time.”
I take it, my fingers brushing his.“My favorite.”
In Solince, we stop at a diner just off the square. The same kind of place we’ve become
accustomed to.
We talk about mundane things, get into an argument about what makes a movie good or
not.
“I just don’t like it when you can tell an actor is acting,” I say, taking a sip of my soda.
He tilts his head. “But they’re actors.”
I throw a fry at him. “Yes, but they are supposed to feel like their character, not an actor.”
He laughs, catching the fry and popping it in his mouth. “Come on, let’s go. We still have
1/3
More Than an Escape–1
to check in and I want to sleep. I’m tired of driving.”
Outside, the air’s cold, dusk folding into night.
He unlocks the car, and I just stand there, staring at him. “It’s nice talking to you like that, like friends.”
He twitches.
“I know this is easier for you,” I whisper. “Being near me, but not with me. This is what you wanted, right? I’m still trying to get the hang of it.”
He blinks. And then his entire face changes. “You think this is easy for me?”
I watch him, kind of shocked by his reaction.
His nostrils flare, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitch. “You think this, this fucking limbo that we’re in, is what I wanted?”
“You broke up with me, Zaid.”
“Because I had to!” His voice rises.
My heart’s hammering. His hands are fisted at his sides, veins stark against his skin. I see the tension in his neck; the frustration radiating off him in waves. The tattoo behind his ear is visible, half–hidden by his messy hair, and I want so badly to press my mouth to it.
“You’re drowning,” his voice cracks.
I shake my head. “No-”
“You being in denial doesn’t make it less true.”
My chest heaves.
“Have you seen a therapist?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need one.”
He scoffs, something like pain crossing his eyes. “I don’t know how to fix this. I can’t fix this. I need you to want to fix this.”
2/3
More Than an Escape–1
“I don’t need to fix anything,” I whisper. “I just need you.”
He steps closer, and the air between us disappearing. His chest brushes mine. We’re close, so damn close. I reach for his shirt and he grabs my wrists, keeping me from touching him. My insides curl, need igniting inside me.
He breathes hard, his hands shaking. I see the war inside him, the way his
between restraint and desire.
eyes flicker
“Give me a sign,” I whisper, desperate. “That I still have a chance with you. That I haven’t lost you forever.”
He exhales like it hurts. Then, his forehead presses to mine, and he says it so low I almost miss it. “You’ll never lose me completely, Alina. Not even if you tried.”
Chapter Comments
