I wake up with a smile, remembering the night before. She felt something, I know she did. Her body said it in the way she held me against her. The way her heart pounded against her chest, in rhythm with mine. The way her eyes stayed wide open and locked on mine. She saw every bit of love I have for her and, in return, I saw every bit of love she has for me.

My arm reaches across to feel for her, but the bed is cold and empty. I sit up and peek out of the window by my bed. Her car is gone.

She’s gone.

Fuck.

I knew it.

I pushed her too far. She’s running again. Away from her feelings, away from me.

I lean over and hold my head in my hands. What am I going to do? How can I make her see it? She has to see it.

Uneasily, I pace through the house to the kitchen. While drinking from the carton of orange juice, my eyes land on a piece of paper on the counter top. I toss the empty container in the trash and take a step closer to see it clearly.

It’s a note from Lex.

I stare at the seven words for several minutes, not daring to touch it.

I shouldn’t be surprised that she left. I pushed her, I knew I shouldn’t have, but I did and now she’s gone.

When does she leave? What if she’s only in town for the weekend? What if she leaves today?

I shower quickly and dress even quicker, then hop on the bike and head straight to her parents’ house. Her car isn’t in the drive.

Fuck, she’s already gone. She took off and didn’t say goodbye, again.

It’s not just her car that is missing, though – none of her family’s cars are in the driveway either. Usually her mom’s car is here during the day, but the driveway is completely empty.

An idea flashes in my mind. It’s a long shot, but I have to try.

I drive to the country club and sure enough, her car is here.

I don’t go in. It’s not like it was last night. The parking lot is damn-near empty. If I walk in there, everyone will know.

So I wait.

She doesn’t see me waiting for her, leaning on my bike, until she almost reaches her car. I pour my heart out for her and she has the nerve to tell me that last night meant nothing, that it was a mistake, that she feels nothing for me. Passion burns hot in the pit of my stomach, mixed with a sharp, consuming anger from her words that I have never experienced before.

No feelings for me? Time to prove it, sweetheart.

I give her all of me. Every last fucking drop that I’ve been hiding deep inside of me for six long years. I give it all to her. I let it flood out of me and into her. When I pull away, I can see the crack spiderwebbing across her walls, until the entire foundation crumbles and exposes her core. Rather than calling her out on it, I leave her to figure it out herself.

I know I won’t hear from her again, and if I do, it will be a long fucking time, but I know I’ve planted a seed of doubt inside of her. She’s doubting everything right now.

* * *

“Hey, Pops.” I take my usual seat at the counter and he pours me a cup of coffee.

“Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?”

I nod and force a smile. “Yep, sure is. I get to pick up my check tomorrow and finally start my business.” Needless to say, the accomplishment of achieving my dream of running my own company fills me with hope and excitement, and a part of me is ecstatic. No more getting shit on by every incompetent foreman having a bad day, no more fighting with my supervisors. But happiness is buried deep in a pit of sadness and hurt after the last encounter with Lex. When I left her standing in that parking lot, staring after me, I left a bigger piece of myself than I had foreseen.

“I have something for you,” Pops says as he shuffles into the back.

I sip my coffee and wait.

He comes back and slides an envelope across to me. I eye him before I pick it up and open it, unsure of what I’ll see. A small piece of paper is inside, which I remove and look over several times before comprehending what it is.

It’s a check, written out to me, for a hundred grand.

I’m speechless. My eyes go from the check to him and back. “Pops, what is this?”

“Tell that big corporate bank to shove their money. You don’t need it anymore.” He offers me a wide grin.

I don’t want to offend him, but I say, “Pops, I can’t take your money.”

“Bullshit. Take the money. What do you think I’m going to do with it?” He flattens his hands on the counter to support his weight.

I shake my head and rub my brows, then look back at the check. It’s tempting, but I can’t do it. I did not befriend Pops for his money. He’s busted his ass his entire life to earn this, I have no right to take it.

“No, and that’s final. I mean it, Pops.” I slide the check across the counter.

He looks pissed, but he picks it up and folds it in half. He slides it into his pocket and pats it. “Fine. I don’t know why you are so damn stubborn.” He turns and refills my coffee cup.

He leans over, resting his forearms on the counter and his eyes stay with mine. I don’t know what he’s searching for, but after a long minute of awkwardness I ask, “What the hell are you doing?”

His eyes squint and his brows pull together. “I’m trying to figure out if you caught your fish.”

I look at my coffee and shake my head again. When I was growing up, Pops used to tell me that there were ‘plenty of fish in the sea’ whenever I would come home from school, heartbroken after being rejected by whichever girl I had professed my love to that week, and it was a saying that always roused a chuckle from both of us.

“Oh, I caught her alright. Catch and release.”

He seems taken back. He stands up straight and pulls over his barstool, which he positions right in front of me and sits down. “I know I’m getting old, Strike, but it sounded like you said catch and release.”

I nod. “That’s what I said.”

His hand flies unseen through the air, faster than my eyes can follow it, but I feel it sting as it pops me on the back of the head.

I jump and rub the sore spot. “What the hell was that for?”

“Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Why’d you go and do a thing like that?” His bushy, gray eyebrows furrow together, casting a shadow over the wicked gleam in his eyes.

“She’s just not ready.” Pops remains motionless as I sip my coffee. He just sits there across from me, watching and waiting for me to continue.

Fuck, it doesn’t look like I’m going to get out of this.

“We hooked up last night.”

“When you say ‘hooked up’ you really mean…”

A small chuckle leaves me. “We slept together.”

He nods, urging me on.

“When I woke up, she was gone.” I shrug.

“What? You just let her go? You didn’t go after her?”

“I did go after her. I found her at the country club. She’s leaving, going back to wherever the hell she’s been hiding. She wasn’t going to tell me goodbye. Again. Fuck, it feels like I’m eighteen again.”

My head dips forward into my hands.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she doesn’t tell you goodbye because she can’t?”

I scoff. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“She loves you, Striker. She doesn’t tell you goodbye because it would hurt her too much.”

“But just up and leaving, and staying away for years at a time doesn’t bother her?” My blood is starting to boil again, and my voice drips with an acidic edge.

“I didn’t say it makes sense.” Pops stands and moves his bar stool back into the corner. He picks up a white towel and begins wiping the counter as people start filing into the diner. It’s going on noon and the old booths and chairs will soon be full of church-goers, hungry after a morning spent sitting in pews.

I take one last sip from my coffee and slide it over. “I’ll get out of your hair. Put that damn check somewhere safe before you lose it.” I point at him as I make my way toward the door.

As I’m walking to my bike, my phone rings and I pull it from my pocket. “Hello?”

“I got us four more crew members,” Jordan says excitedly over the line.

“Damn, four?” I sit on my bike but don’t start it. “Who all did you get?”

“Mark, Seth, Garett, and Shaun. Billy wants to come to, but I figured you wouldn’t want his dumb ass on your crew.”

I laugh. Billy can’t show up sober. He fucks around most of the day. I think the only reason Vick let him stay on his crew was to have a gopher. His official job duties included such hard-hitting tasks as picking up coffee and lunch for the rest of the crew, and running back and forth to the lumber yard whenever we needed something.

“Sounds good. I’m just about to jump on the bike so I need to get off here. I pick up the check tomorrow and, for a few months, I’ll be running the company out of my garage until I can find a good-sized utility van or trailer to store the tools in. I’ll be in touch.”

I slide the phone back into my pocket and fire up the bike. Something feels off-kilter inside of me as I head for home. I don’t want to go back yet; my bedroom will only be filled with last night’s memories.

Changing my route, I hang a right at the lights and pull into a parking stall in front of the bar. Home will still be there when I am good and ready to get back, but for now I just need to waste some time and distract myself.

A cold bottle of beer, already dripping with condensation, is placed in front of me in exchange for some wadded-up bills dug from the bottom of my pocket. I sit absentmindedly with the bottle in my hands, but don’t move to drink it or check out my surroundings.

“I thought you were too good for a place like this.”

My blood has been running hot all day, but it turns to ice at the sound of his voice. Instinctually, every muscle in my body tenses as adrenaline pumps through my veins.

I straighten my back and raise my shoulders, turning in the direction of his voice. He is sitting three stools down from me, with an empty stool and an older man, whom I don’t recognize, in between us.

Our eyes lock and a smile dances across his face as he scoops up his beer, with all the care and love of a parent picking up a beloved child, and sits in the empty stool next to me. “I’d like to buy my son a shot of whiskey.”

The bartender moves, but I stop her. “I don’t want any whiskey. It’s barely even noon, I’m not here to get drunk.”

“Then why’re you here?”

I study my dad. His unkempt dark hair is greasy and tangled, dangling out from under his dirty Ford hat like an old, dirty mop. Deep bags under his eyes cast shadows that are swallowed up by the wrinkles that have overtaken his face in the years since I last saw him.

“Just wasting some time.” The beer is still sitting uselessly in my hand, completely full. Looking at my dad, I don’t know if I want it.

“I heard that little bitch came back to town. You giving it to her again?” He raises his bottle to his lips, but waits to take a drink while he looks at me.

“How is that any of your goddamn business?”

A soft chuckle trickles from his mouth as he takes a long pull from the bottle.

He shakes his head and looks at the bar. “Are you ever going to fucking see it? You’re just as fucking blind as I was. You know that?”

I want to know what it is that he thinks I’m too blind to see, but I don’t ask. It’s all just some drunken mumblings from my alcoholic father. Nothing more.

It’s not worth it to stick around and finish my beer, so I leave it on the bar and push my barstool back. Before leaving, I lock eyes with my father and say, “If I ever hear you call her a bitch again, you won’t have to worry about how you’re getting home from the bar, because you will be leaving in a body bag. Or are you too blind to see that?”

I shove the door open and jump on my bike, cruising through the countryside instead of going home. Wind whips through my hair and across my skin as the roar of the motor cuts through the silence. The constant vibration of the motor helps to relax me, gradually teasing some of the tension out of my muscles.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t care, I just need to ride. I just want to get away from my father, from this town, from her.

She can run from me, so why can’t I run from her?

I guess the only difference is that she doesn’t care that I’m running from her.

The whole ride is spent in a daze, with no destination in mind. After some time, I park the bike next to the road and climb off. I walk to the edge of the small cliff and look down at the shallow water pooled at the bottom. A small trickle of water flows over the cliff’s edge and into the pool of water below. It isn’t much, but it hasn’t really rained in a while either.

Seated on the ledge, legs dangling over empty space, I feel my mind and body start to relax. I rummage through the sidesaddle of my bike and dig out a cigarette, which I light against the hot muffler.

The day’s events play through my mind. I think about Lex and how I shouldn’t have walked away from her. She felt something and I knew it. I saw it. Now she’s gone and I have no idea when, or if, I will see her again.

When I do, I will probably have to start all over again. Enough time will have passed that whatever I made her feel will be faded away. How many times can I do this?

“Striker, I don’t know if I can.” Lex peeks over the side and looks down at the water below.

A week of heavy storms has filled the pool below us to its brim, and the typically docile stream running over the side of the cliff is now nothing short of a waterfall, rushing over the edge to plummet into freefall.

“You’re not going to chicken out on me now, are you?”

She takes a step back and wraps her arms around her. “I don’t know, Striker. I mean, what’s down there? What if we land on a rock?”

I narrow my eyes on her, silently challenge her. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”

“I’m not afraid.”

I can tell she’s trying her hardest to be brave. I hold out my hand. “Trust me.”

She studies me for a long moment, but I can feel our connection before she even reaches for my hand.

With my eyes on hers, I walk her to the edge. “On the count of three.”

She nods, but she doesn’t talk or look at me. She’s looking at the water below, fear written across her face.

“Hey.”

Her eyes dart to mine.

“Don’t look down there. Just look at me. It’s just me and you, remember. No lies, no secrets, only trust and love. Are you ready?”

She nods, but her eyes flash back to the water below us.

“Lex.”

She brings her eyes to me and I pull her closer. I press her to my side and press my lips against hers. I can feel her fear and anxiety fall away as her body melts against mine.

I pull away and look into her bright blue eyes, eyes that are clouded with excitement. “Three!”

We both jump.

We’re weightless as we fall through the air. It’s like slow motion for me. I look at her and see her eyes closed with a wide smile spread across her face. She’s absolutely beautiful. In this moment, she’s completely free, alive. Excitement and love are radiating off her, but so is a sense of peace and trust. She looks completely at ease.

We crash into the water, hands still locked together.

When we break the surface, she’s laughing and she throws her arms around my neck while cheering.

“We did it!”

I brush the wet hair off her pink, flushed cheeks. “You did it.” I crush my lips against hers, overflowing with love for this girl. She’s mine and only mine, for the rest of my life. No one will ever compare.

I take a long breath and wipe my eyes. The stinging dryness of my eyes, which now feel like sandpaper, reminds me of how long I have been staring at the water, lost in thought.

I dig my knuckles into the corners of my eyes, rubbing away the memory until they are moistened again by tears. It’s about time to head home, but before I close the distance to my bike, I give the cliff one last look, longing for what used to be.

It’s almost like I can see us standing there, right on the edge, ready to jump.

I’m ready to jump, I just have to find that connection once again.