twenty-nine
D uring the next few days, it seemed that the small crack that had let some light in by recalling Madison was only the harbinger of many more small things that began to trickle through.
Nate would walk around the city and when the sight of a used bookstore would have normally never stood out to him, now made him stop and watch as the door swung open and closed behind customers.
He would go running in the park and notice other runners, some of them struggling and trying to catch their breath, and an involuntary smile would tug at his lips before he would realize what he was doing.
In one of his afternoon runs, his gaze caught on a little kid that was crying because his ice-cream had fallen on the ground and the thought of ice-cream in winter had sent such a sharp sting through his chest he’d had to rub the place for a few seconds.
It happened one evening while he was at home.
He’d been feeling a strange sort of agitation all day, so much so that he’d decided to try and take his mind off everything and relax by doing one of the few things he knew would help.
Going to the cabinet under his TV set, he opened its doors to reveal the collection of CDs and vinyls he’d painstakingly accumulated through the years.
If music didn’t ease his inner turmoil, he had no idea what could.
He knew where everything was by heart since he kept all the records always in the same order. Which was why his attention was drawn immediately to something unfamiliar. He reached and pulled out the CD, his eyes falling on the white and gray figures embracing on the cover.
Snow Patrol–‘Eyes Open’
Something to remember this day by.
A soft voice whispered those words in his head and suddenly memories no longer trickled bit by bit. They poured in through doors that were thrown open with such a force they barely hung from their hinges.
Walking with her through rows and rows of music.
Holding her close among the shower of Christmas lights.
Mischievous smiles, surprised laughter, soft touches, heated looks.
A barrage of images, sounds, and smells assaulted him with such ferocity that Nate felt himself stumble even though he was simply standing.
Cold. Dancing. Books. Movies. Warmth. Lips. Sweetness.
Light. Light. So much light.
Madison.
And then his chest was aching, his heart constricted by the weight of what he’d unconsciously let go and was now rushing back.
It robbed him of breath as he braced a hand on the nearest surface letting it all wash over him.
Madison.
How could he forget her?
How could he forget the one thing that had made all those weeks worth repeating?
He’d promised himself that he’d do anything to keep her, that he would be by her side however she wanted him, that he would do this right.
And he’d fucked it all up.
Maybe not intentionally but it had still happened.
He sat heavily on the couch as if no longer being able to bear the onslaught of everything he was remembering and feeling.
The image of her face the day they’d found themselves back at the scene of the accident flashed through his mind, and all the devastation he’d seen there but hadn’t understood at the time, now made perfect, tragic sense.
Small details were now pushed to the forefront of his mind, no longer contained.
The warm, dark-haired woman he’d kept close in his arms as their world had tilted. One moment in a porch swing as the snow began to fall and the year began its final countdown, and the next in an upheaval that had knocked him off his axis.
Her hair had been shorter than when they’d been younger, now barely reaching her shoulders, but otherwise she’d looked almost the same.
The warm hazel of her eyes trained on him as if his safety had been more important than hers, the soft touch of her hands on his shirt where she’d gripped him for dear life.
And he’d looked at her as if she’d been a stranger. Because for all intents and purposes that’s what she had been.
The distress with which she’d called his name, the need to make sure he was okay, the subsequent look of hurt when realization had struck.
All the pieces now gathered to make a tapestry of everything that had been missing these past weeks.
There was a reason he’d been carrying this black abyss where his chest was and where his heart beat. A reason he’d felt unsettled, untethered, and listless.
And despite the realization of what had happened and the regret that filled him now in its wake, he felt a fierce sense of relief.
There was no disorientation, no scattered thoughts, but only a laser-like focus that had him bracing his arms now on his thighs, as he leaned forward where he was sitting, his gaze fixed somewhere far away, unseeing and yet, honing in on what he had to do.
His breathing settled in a comfortable pattern and his heartbeat slowed in the certainty of his purpose.
His girl was out there.
And he would find her.