I looked out the window, watching the desert landscape I loved so much slipping passed us. “You know that saying; live everyday like it's your last?”
I saw Trent nod out of the corner of my eye. “Well, I live everyday like it's the last day I'm going to see everyone I meet.”
Trent didn't respond, and I watched as his hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Finally, he spoke, “I don't think that's a bad thing...it just sucks the reason you do is because that's the way your life has been.”
“I look forward to every day that I get to see my dad. The good thing is he's in partial remission.”
Trent glanced over at me, the smile returning to his face. “That's good, right?”
“It's like most things...a mix of good and bad.”
“You're being very cryptic today,” Trent replied, his brow furrowing.
I ran my fingers over the bumps of my braid as I thought of what to say. “I'm sorry—I'm just not used to talking to anyone about any of these things...even my dad and I hover around it but don't really talk about it. It means he's alive, for now—but the cancer will come back,” my breath caught in my throat, and I struggled to finish the sentence; “and my dad has chosen to forgo any future treatments.”
Trent reached over, snaking his fingers in between mine before squeezing. “I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now.”
“I can't either...because I have no idea what to feel.”
Anger, sadness, pain—it all seemed to be one singular mass inside of me, raging for attention, but over the years I got used to muting it out. At some point, I figured I would implode, or become completely immune to feeling anything.
Trent nodded as he turned into the parking lot of a fancy French restaurant; one I knew existed, but never thought I would go to. He put the car in park before turning to face me, his eyes on our hands as his thumb rubbed over mine and caused tingles to shoot up my spine. His eyes lifted to mine, and the tingles turned to sparks that heated my face.
“I know this is a weird thing to say on a second date, but no matter if we just end up friends—I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to do my best to make you feel happiness.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, and his hand lifted from mine, moving my bangs out of my eyes and settling on my cheek.
His eyes raced over my face as we leaned in, our lips grazing one another in a single, deep kiss that left me light headed. He pulled away, smiling. “I'm really hoping for more than friends, though.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Me too, because I'm pretty sure I couldn't forget that kiss.”
I watched as his tongue moved over his lips, and my mind went places it really shouldn't go on a second date.
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