Adelaide
My hands curl instinctively into fists as I watch him end the call, my nails biting into my palms as his words echo in my mind.
After everything we’ve been through since he popped back into my life, this is how it ends? Without a discussion beforehand?
He reclines on the porch, a wistful expression painted on his face as he looks around the small village. If anything, it only serves to make my anger rise higher, a small fire sparking to life in my mind.
I stand silently a moment longer, watching as his eyes finish their trek, waiting for them to turn in my direction.
When they finally do, I watch them widen in surprise, his body lurching upright in my presence.
“Addie, I didn’t—”
“Didn’t see me? Yeah, I gathered as much.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
His unanswered question hangs between us. What, if anything, did I hear?
“How’s Sten?” I ask in response, taking a step forward.
The tension bunching his muscles seems to relax as the words leave my mouth, his body relaxing in...defeat? Shame?
It doesn’t matter.
He runs his hand slowly across the back of his neck before standing, his face taking on a look of apology that I don’t care to acknowledge.
“It’s the right thing to do, Addie.”
I can’t help the growl that travels up my throat.
“The right thing? Wow, Ford, I didn’t realize that running off like a coward was the right thing. My mistake.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh, yes, you are. I don’t even know why I’m surprised. It’s high school all over again. We get close, and you flee. I should’ve seen it coming.”
“Is that what you think happened?” His voice rises slightly in anger, his hands curling into fists tightly at his sides. “I didn’t run away from you. You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
I hear my own voice rising to match his.
“Oh, bullshit Ford! You did run. Just like you’re running now. You tell yourself whatever you need to, but you can’t fool me. You’re a coward!”
He stomps angrily towards me, his footfalls kicking up dust in his wake. He stops close to me, our bodies mere inches apart. His proximity shoots small sparks of electricity through my veins even now.
“I didn’t run then, and I’m not running now. I just know when to say when, Addie. Unlike you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, please. You have no idea when enough is enough. The doctor with the world on her shoulders, right? Well, your Atlas complex is your own problem. The rest of us know when to walk away.”
“Run away,” I counter, raising myself slightly on my toes.
His frame hulks before me, muscles once again tensing visibly in frustration.
“What do you want from me?” he growls.
“I want you to face this! For fuck’s sake, Ford, I thought this meant something. I thought I meant something to you!”
His hands fly up to his head, running idly through his hair as he looks at me incredulously.
“Of course you mean something to me! All of this meant something to me, Adelaide, but I can’t stay here. This isn’t about what I want or what we had. This is about your safety. If you’d stop being stubborn for one second, you’d see that!”
I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to stomp my foot like an enraged child.
“My safety?” I look wildly around us, gesturing with my arms for emphasis. “I am safe, Ford! Whatever worst-case scenario you’ve got playing in that head of yours isn’t real! Can you even tell the difference?”
“Sure, for now,” he says ominously. “But I’ve been through this, Addie. You have no idea. My worst case scenarios are real. It’s only a matter of time. Whether or not you wanna admit it, I’m dangerous—to you and everyone else around me. I refuse to be the cause of another person getting hurt!”
“You won’t, Ford. Nothing’s going to happen!”
“You’re wrong,” he says, reaching down to grab my hand.
He clutches it tightly between us, my heart racing frantically at his touch.
“Ford—” I say, half-whispering the word.
“No, Addie—you need to listen. The person that I am, the things that I’ve caused, you can’t just wish that away. All of it comes with a price. Your safety is the most important thing to me. If I stay, you’re in danger, no matter how hard you try to deny it. I can’t let anything happen to you. I refuse.”
He gestures roughly around us and says, “And this place, this life that you’ve chosen... I can’t keep you safe here. I only make it more dangerous. It’s driving me insane, Adelaide!”
“So we’ll figure it out!” I shout it frustration.
“How? Are you going to leave, Addie? Give this all up? Because as long as we’re here, you’re at risk.”
His words slam into me, and I instinctively pull my hand from his grasp. My eyes run freely around the village.
Give this up?
My life has meaning here in a way that I never thought was possible. I care about this place, about these people. My heart aches at the thought of leaving it all behind.
“I can’t leave, Ford.”
He throws his hands up in resignation, clearly already knowing what my answer would have been.
“So, there it is,” he says, a touch of finality to his words. “You can’t leave, and I can’t stay. What else is there to talk about?”
I feel hollow at his assessment, tears threatening my eyes. After everything we’ve been through, after finding each other a lifetime later, this is it?
“Maybe...”
I trail off. Really there’s nothing left to say. A void has opened between us.
No matter how hard I want it to close, there’s no fixing this.
Quiet follows the word, heavy and pervasive, speaking louder than either of us possibly could. I feel sorrow washing over me in waves, invading my senses with utter hopelessness.
“This was never going to work,” he says, breaking the moment. “I should have known better, Addie. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I ask, feeling anger spread through me anew. “This is bullshit, Ford. I was right to begin with. You’re a coward. We could figure this out, but you don’t want to. You’re too afraid.”
He shakes his head slowly, taking a step backward.
“There’s nothing to figure out,” his voice comes out softly now, sorrow and regret heavy in his words. “I’m no good for you, Adelaide―or for anyone else.”
He looks up, his eyes finding mine intensely. “I’m the Zimwi, okay? I’m a dangerous beast. You’ll be much better off without me.”
I open my mouth to speak, wanting to say something—anything—to close the rift between us. Words fail me though, my mind seeming to blank in the face of his declaration.
There’s nothing left to say. His mind is clearly made up.
I close my mouth silently, again fighting the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes.
He stands a moment longer, his eyes trailing across my face in a way that makes me ache.
Then, with a single nod, he turns away.
I can only stand and watch as he walks farther into the village, his feet quickly increasing the space between us.
It’s tempting to follow and get him to tell me everything, but I know he won’t talk to me, so I turn in the opposite direction.
As I walk away from him, my foot kicks a pebble, and I watch it roll off the path, my mind now a million miles away.