If This Is Love

by Jewel E. Ann

Turning, I head toward the stairs, but before I round the corner, I have to speak my truth. “I love your touch. I’ve always loved your touch, Milo. For different reasons. You’ve touched me in ways I’m sure you can’t imagine, maybe in ways you never intended. Your arms absorbed the grief I felt after Ruthie died. Your fingers have wiped so many tears from my face. Each swipe is like a salve to my soul, healing it with something as simple as a touch. And when your hand pressed against my cheek and down my leg in the grass by the pond…” I glance over my shoulder, resting my chin on it without fully lifting my gaze to him “…it made me feel beautiful. For that fleeting moment, I thought maybe you felt something for me. Something more than duty. Something more than loyalty. More than sympathy. Then you were gone. But your touch is still on my skin. I wonder if a day will come when I don’t feel your touch?” I laugh a little, and it’s a pain in the pit of my stomach. “I hope so because it hurts.”

“A million dollars, huh?” A shuddering breath spreads like an earthquake across my chest. I want to nod, but I can’t. I’m shackled with grief. I’m stolen, yet I belong to no one. And when I leave for college and Milo marries Jolene, I will have no one. His hand finds the side of my neck, and his thumb brushes along my pulse point. “What a bargain for someone so priceless,” he whispers.

He gives me a sad smile while his head cants to the side. “Indie girl … I’m gonna kiss you. And it’s not gonna change anything, but it’s gonna mean everything. Okay?”

“If I could go anywhere in the world, Indie … it would be inside of you.”

I don’t know when it happened. She was a young girl. I felt protective of her. Fletcher and Ruthie always trusted me with her. And that meant a lot. Then I blinked. I can’t recall whether it was a slow or long blink. All I know was that she wasn’t a young girl when my eyes opened. Indie is a woman.

“Do you regret what we did last night?” Milo’s hands disappear from my neck and skim down my arms. His fingers slide into my back pockets. “Indie, I have many regrets, but you will never be one of them. The world is a fucking dumpster fire. There’s so much hate. There’s so much judgment. I refuse to bend to anyone’s opinion. They don’t know us.” I love you, Milo.

“Indiana Ellington … I love you too.” With a single blink, a tsunami of tears surges down my face. If this is love, then love is overrated. No. It’s flat-out cruel.

Milo nods. “I feel it right now.” He smiles, but it quickly fades. “Sometimes, happiness is fleeting. But I can now say that when I die, I’ll have known that feeling. I’ll remember how it felt to be home, if only for a few breaths. I’ll remember it forever; I’ll remember you forever.”