Chapter 6
We went back and forth for the next few hours, talking about my future and my weird ideas for life. He shared some of his with me, but I noticed he was reluctant to give much information at all, always diverting the topic back to me.
We shared carbs and coffee, laughing and smiling as if we didn’t just meet a few hours ago under literal life and death circumstances.
I found myself so happy and content with him, this nameless stranger sitting across from me, helping me sort out my hopes and dreams, giving me a future. It should’ve felt strange, but instead, something huge was shifting in my world.
We finished off my list of reasons for a future full of joy and decided to order milkshakes. Neither of us seemed to want to go; I’d have been happy to sit and talk to him all day.
“What are your reasons for living, Redwood?” I ask as the waitress delivers our shakes, his Snickers flavored, mine strawberry.
“I already have my reasons for the future. I’ve always had hopes and dreams. Wanting a future isn’t my problem; it’s the future that’s being forced on me that I don’t want.
Honestly, I don’t need a list of reasons.
Today, when I was standing out on that ledge, I knew I didn’t want to be there.
I knew all the people who’d miss and mourn me; my brothers would be devastated.
I knew all those things. but I stayed there because I was scared.
” Dropping a straw into my shake, he slides in it my direction before doing the same to his.
“To be honest, when I got the news yesterday, I drank way too fucking much, and I let myself spiral. I let the anger of my situation, the frustration of feeling like my life isn’t mine anymore, push me over the edge.
That edge is exactly where I found myself at 5:00 am today.
It’s where you found me, and do you want to know the craziest part?
” he asks with a look of awe that confuses me.
“What?′ I say, leaning forward.
“When you showed up, I was asking God, or the universe, or whoever the fuck was listening, for a sign. I wanted one thing to give me a sign that I’d made the wrong choice, that I’d get through what’s in store for me, that even though this isn’t what I want, that I’ll survive it.
You showed up at that exact moment, Thumbelina.
” His throats works a heavy swallow as he grips his glass, tight enough that I begin to worry it’ll crack.
“It could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been a cop, or some angry commuter.
It could’ve been a bird shitting on my shoe.
It could’ve been any sign, and I would’ve taken it, because I’m not ready to go, but it wasn’t any of those things.
It was you. It was you and it was me, and I have to believe that whoever the fuck is out there made that happen for us.
We saved each other so you can fight your past for a future, and I can fight my future for a life.
That’s my reason. I don’t need a list; I got my answer today.
” He finishes his thoughts with a massive, heartwarming smile.
I can’t help but listen, enthralled by how positive he is. He said it was the worst day of his life, yet here he is, being fifty shades of philosophical and so damn sure of not only his future, but mine too.
I can’t help but be in awe of him, this beautiful, skyscraper of a man, covered in tattoos with a hard as hell exterior, spouting about signs, dreams, and futures like he’s meant to.
“Who the hell are you?” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.
He smiles at me with his mega-watt, panty-melting smile. “I’m a stranger, Thumbelina. I’m exactly who and where I should be.”
“Can you tell me anything about yourself? What’s your real name? Am I ever going to see you again?” I practically beg.
Please say yes. This can’t be it.
His smile fades as quickly as it arrived, and he turns to look out the window, onto the busy street.
He stays quiet for a few minutes, his jaw starting to flex and tick.
I don’t understand what just happened. I know he said we’re strangers, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way anymore.
I’ve never had a connection with someone like this.
He finally looks back at me with a heavy grimace etched on his perfect face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. My life is no place for someone with such a beautiful future ahead of them. I think we should just keep our names as is: Thumbelina and Redwood. Anonymity. Strangers.”
Sweetheart.
“Oh,” I whisper, feeling completely defeated. My heart, the thing I try to keep from feeling anything, cracks. He grabs my hand from the table and gives it a squeeze.
“I know,” he murmurs. “I feel it too. I wish this wasn’t it.
I wish the cosmos dropped you in my life for more than just saving it, but I mean it when I say your future is too bright to be brought down by mine.
What’s in store for me isn’t as pretty as you deserve, mi pequeno sol, and damn if I’m bringing you down with me,” he says with a half-smile that I think he intends to be reassuring.
I squeeze his hand back, fighting my ridiculous emotional response to him.
I clear my throat from the ball currently restricting my airway. “Are you going to keep fighting for a better future, Redwood?”
“Yeah, Thumbelina, I am,” he whispers.
Still holding hands, eyes locked, I can’t help but notice when his gaze drops down to my mouth. Out of instinct, I lick my dry lips, and he follows the movement. Without any hesitation, he leans his large body across the small table and I find myself mirroring his movements.
He’s going to kiss me. Yes, yes, yes. Kiss me.
My eyes drift shut and I lean in a bit further. His breath skates across my mouth. My body shivers at the feeling, all excitement and nerves. This will be it, my first real kiss. My first real kiss with him.
Then, his phone rings, and just as quickly as his lips hovered over mine, they disappear.
I instantly mourn the loss of his mouth, of his warmth.
He lets out an annoyed growl, releases my hand, and answers his phone.
I listen to one side of the conversation; whatever’s being said on the other end sobers him quickly.
When he hangs up, he looks down at his phone, clearly reading whatever messages he’d been ignoring.
“Sorry, that was my brother. I got a message a while ago that your car is ready.”
He drops his phone and glances back down at our lists.
Pulling off the top piece, he hands it to me, a small smile playing on his beautiful, kissable mouth.
He looks down at the empty pad again and his smile widens.
Redwood hides it from me and scribbles something quickly, then tears it out and folds it up.
For a brief second, I get excited, thinking it’s his number.
That thought goes up in smoke as he pulls out his wallet, drops some cash on the table, and tucks the note inside his wallet.
“Let’s get out of here, Thumbelina. We’ve got futures to live.” He grabs my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world and tugs me along. I tuck my list into my hoodie pocket and follow him out of our cozy little diner nest and into the future.