Older

by Jennifer Hartmann

“You say that now.” “I’ll say it forever. None of that matters.”

The future was a privilege. Dreams were a luxury. I cherished the right now. And that was Reed.

“Do you think you can someday?” I hesitated, my hand loosely curled around the doorknob. Glancing over my shoulder, tear stains burned lines down my cheeks as I breathed out, “Can I what?” Reed swallowed, the gesture causing his lips to tremble, his eyes to water. “Love again.”

imagined the future I’d always wanted: a man to love, a house that felt like a home, children laughing and playing at my feet while I cooked dinner. An idyllic, wholesome life I knew I deserved. A life with a man who wasn’t Reed.

“As much as a girl can love the next best thing.”

She thought I was broken. She thought I’d been brainwashed by a man who’d only ever had my best interest in mind. Who’d only ever loved, cared, nurtured, and provided for me. For both of us. It sickened me.

“Try.” It took a moment for the statement to process. When it did, her eyes flashed. “I⁠—” “Promise me you’ll try.” Try to understand. Try to see him as the man he is; the good, noble, loving man who raised you right. Try to put love above all else. Please try. For me. For him. For you.

“It’s great to see⁠—” “You look⁠—” I laughed, ducking my head. “I look horrifying. I’m sorry for that.” “No.” His voice was a mere whisper. He squinted like he was studying a lost relic, flicking a hand through his hair as he murmured, “You look exactly like how I remember you. Just…” “Just what?” His eyes rolled over me, head to toe. “Older.”

He was striking. Stunning. Standing right in front of me.

“Well, I’m sure you have a lot to do. I don’t want to keep you.” Lies. I wanted to keep him. Forever. For always.

“You know what?” Reed spun back around and stalked toward me, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Fuck it.” “Fuck it?” I blinked, spinning around to face him. “Fuck what?” “This. It’s stupid. You’re here, and I’m here, and we have history.” “Okay,” I breathed out. “I miss you.” My eyebrows hiked up, meeting my hairline. “I…miss you, too.” “Good. Have dinner with me tonight.” I went quiet. Oh.

SCREAMING OHMYGOSNNSBEBEHS

Reed and I had ventured through the best and worst out of life. Love, pain, laughter, soul-bared intimacy, and the saddest goodbye. But there was one thing we’d never done before. Never got to experience. Something so simple, so common, the idea of it stole the breath from my lungs. A date.

Reed gazed at me with tragic longing as I sauntered down the sidewalk and into his line of sight. This was a terrible idea. Truly idiotic.

His eyes held hotly to mine, torture and affection creasing his browline. “It’s hard to believe I’m looking at you. Something other than a photograph or memory.”

“I know. I’ve just always wanted to do this.” “Do what?” He reached out and clasped my hand, linking our fingers together. “Hold your hand in public.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted as we dodged other couples, dogs on short leashes, and a slew of baby strollers. “I think my words are broken.” He glanced at me, tangerine highlights from the low-hanging sun brightening his dark hair. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Then he pulled out a little stem of vibrant blue flowers. Morning glories.

he lifted the blossoms in the air and tucked them behind my ear, pushing my hair to the side and adjusting the stem into place. A grin crested on his mouth. So bright it outshined the backdrop behind us that glittered with golden sunlight on water. “You look pretty with flowers in your hair.”

“Flowers. Hand-holding. A long walk on the beach.” I bit down on my lip. “This feels like a date, Reed.” He took my hand again and ushered me forward. “It’s just a day.” Our arms swung with levity, the dark clouds fading into clearer skies. “A really good day.”

MY HEART IS BEING STABBED OVWR AND OVER AGAIN

“Ah. Maybe my grandmother was right.” “How’s that?” “The best way to a person’s heart is through their stomach.” He nodded slowly, tugging me into one of the food lines. “Maybe. But you found a way in before I ever tasted your food.” Warm flush soaked into my skin. Yep. I was absolutely toast.

So many things were great. But Reed and I were both single, staring starry-eyed at each other, and standing together on an ocean-rimmed beach, yet we lived a thousand miles away, the mountain between us even vaster. That wasn’t great. It was painful.

“You should get your feet wet.” “You should come with me.” Reed glanced at the water, his brows gathering as he slid his thumb across his lower lip. “Maybe another time.”

“Dance with me.” I pretended it was our song. Composed just for us.

I was at home again. Not in Illinois, but in Reed’s glittering galaxy. A comet landing in the arms if its favorite star.

“It killed me that you left, and we never got this. Not once.” Public affection. Transparent love, out in the open. A fuck-you to the universe that we were right and they were wrong. Age didn’t matter. Numbers meant nothing in the grand scheme of destiny.

“I’ll always want this.” “I know.” He kissed the column of my neck. “Me, too.” But… There was always a but.

His mouth lowered to nick my jaw, then settled on my throat, his tongue sheathing a trail of wet heat up to my ear as he nibbled the lobe and whispered my nickname. “Comet.”

Only a goodbye, setting as quickly as the August sun. I hugged him harder than ever before, tears tracking grief down my cheekbones. The morning glories had slipped from my ear, now splattered at our feet in broken buds. Mourning. Glory. Both bleeding together with despair.

Reed tried in vain to erase my tear stains with his desperate kisses. But they’d carved holes. Left scars. “I love you, Halley,” he gritted out. “I’ll never stop.”

All I could do was wait. Reed had given me a lifeline. But I wanted a lifetime.

While life dragged by in shades of dishwater-gray, nothing unsettled me more than the thought of being intimate with another woman. A woman who wasn’t her.

When I closed my eyes, I pictured her standing waist-deep in the ocean, her hair a golden halo around her face, her eyes shimmering with sunset swirl. Puckered skin from the cool mist. Full, parted lips, begging to be kissed.

For taking something that wasn’t mine, for touching her in places that were no longer meant for me. For giving us both a deadly ray of hope. She’d been too willing, too responsive. Too goddamn beautiful. It was a re...

Me: Hey. Lame as fuck. Halley: Hey yourself. Me: Sorry. You caught me off guard. Halley: In a good way or bad way? Me: Good. Always good.

Me: Rock, paper, scissors foreshadowed this, remember? If I won, you were going to chase your dreams—wings spread, eyes on the sky, no looking back. I won. Halley: Feels like I won. :) And yet…it felt like we’d both lost. Lost something vital. Something fundamental.

Halley: Goodnight, Reed. Me: We should do this again some time. Halley: We should. Maybe the weather will get better. Sunny skies ahead. Me: The forecast is looking up. Goodnight, Comet.

The photo was rimmed with a heart in blue Sharpie, and beside it, three words bled into the cardstock: He sees me. My breath caught.

“You’re here to save me,” I breathed out. Warm lips brushed against mine as he whispered, “Maybe you’re here to save me.”

“I always knew we had that kind of love,” he told me, sighing with an air of solace. “What kind of love?” I was putty in his arms, a sagging, boneless heap. Reed swayed me gently, side to side. “The growing old together kind.”