Travis

by Mia Sheridan

Weren’t all of us a compilation of the versions of ourselves we’d once been? Maybe if we were lucky—and insightful—we learned how to extract the good and leave the bad behind, the parts that hadn’t worked for us and instead brought nothing but pain. Maybe.

“It’s meant to work that way, isn’t it?” Burt asked. “All the things that have brought us pain carve a distinct hole in our heart, and there’s someone else out there with the perfect something that will fill the void. And in turn, we get to do the same for them. And suddenly, it all makes sense. It all fits. Because we haven’t been forsaken. We’ve been prepared.”

Maybe the terrible truth about love is that when it’s gone, it leaves a hole in your heart so big it feels like nothing will ever fill it.

What I did know—suddenly and unmistakably—was that she was capable of shattering my heart. And if she was going to, all I could do was let her.

At the time, I didn’t completely trust myself. I knew how I felt, but I questioned whether I had anything to offer her. He paused, his eyes returning to me. But she made me want to become the man she deserved. She made me braver and stronger. Because of her, I wanted to be the best version of myself. And that, I think, is what love does, if it’s really love.

“You didn’t mean to involve your heart, I know. But you did. We both did. And one of us has to be brave and say it. One of us has to be the first to lay their heart on the line,” he finished, gaze beseeching.

He paused. “I want you to be happy,” he said. “I want you to have the perfect life, everything you want.” He looked down. “Even if that’s not me.” The wince was slight. He almost hid it.

I knew what it was. He didn’t have to clarify. “I love you, Travis Hale. I want you to know me. I want to tell you about my past, my life, the things that have hurt and all that I was running from. Not to wallow in it but because it’s part of who I am, and I’m proud that I survived it.”

I wanted morning upon morning where I woke first and marveled at his slumbering beauty in the still light of dawn. And I was determined to do it without that knot of fear in my belly. “Oh, I’ll date you, Haven from California. I’m going to date the hell out of you. No one will have been dated harder in the history—” I planted my lips on his and he laughed against my mouth as he swooped me up in his arms. And in my mind, the future appeared, and it was incredibly, brilliantly bright.