Safe Distance

by Megan Green

  Time passes too quickly and incredibly slowly all at once. When I finally hear a soft knock at the door, my whole body starts to shake. Thinking it’s the doctor, I squeeze my mom tightly and cry into her shoulder. I hear the soft click of the door opening and closing.

  “Ryan.” Haylee’s soft voice fills the room. Her hand rests gently on my shoulder. I turn and look at her. She looks like she got about as much sleep as I did. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and dark circles line them. I slowly let go of my mother and stand.

  She looks at me uncertainly. I pull her into my arms. “Thank you for being here.”

  She nods against my chest. We sink to the edge of my mother’s bed, resting there, one of my hands in Haylee’s, the other hanging desperately onto my mother’s. We sit in silence, waiting for the next knock at the door.

  And it comes all too soon. Before I know it, the doctor is walking into the room, along with the nurse who was here yesterday. They say a few words, then ask if I’d like a few minutes to say goodbye. I look at Haylee and she smiles sadly.

  “No. I said my goodbyes last night. She’s ready to go.”

  The doctor nods, gives a few instructions to the nurse, and moves to stand in the corner. The nurse moves around my mother, removing tubes and wires, until the only thing left is the small clip attached to her finger. The sound of her heartbeat is still beeping softly through the monitor next to her bed.

  The doctor makes a few notes on his clipboard. After a minute, her heartbeat is still going strong. I feel the hope rising up in my chest. This has to be a good sign. She’s still alive, even without all those machines.

  As if able to read my thoughts, the nurse’s voice fills the room. “It’s normal for them to hang on for several minutes after the ventilator is turned off. Takes a little while for the lack of oxygen to reach all the organs. They’ll start shutting down soon.”

  As if on cue, her heart skips a beat. Then a few more. Soon, it’s only beating a few times a minute. Then I hear it. That awful sound. The flat line.

  I would have thought after last night, I didn’t have a single tear left in my body. But I was wrong. They spill easily from my eyes at that sound. Haylee pulls me into her arms. I grab on to her desperately, clinging to her as if my life depends on it. And at this moment, it feels like it does. She’s the only thing keeping me grounded. The only thing I have left.

  Ryan is silent on the drive home. The past few hours are a fog, even for me. After his mother passed, her room became a swarm of activity. Doctors, nurses, social workers. Dozens of people coming in and out, asking questions, removing equipment, and don’t even get me started on the paperwork. Form after form after form. You’d think Ryan just bought a freaking house, not said goodbye to his mother for the very last time.

  He answered every question with quiet grace. Every form that was shoved in front of him was filled out promptly and thoroughly. He never once let on to what was going through his mind. He never really showed any sign of vulnerability. The only time he’d even said something remotely personal was when he insisted all the proceedings take place in her room. He wasn’t ready to leave her just yet, he’d said. But, after witnessing his minor breakdown the first night, I knew something had to be brewing behind those closed-off eyes. He was remaining as stoic as possible in front of the audience. But inside, I knew he had to be reeling.

  Sure enough, as soon as the last social worker tells us we are free to go, Ryan silently takes my hand and pulls me from the room. He nods grimly at the nurses gathered outside in the hallway. They’ve been waiting patiently, but I can tell their patience is starting to wear thin. They need to prepare the body for the morgue, I think morbidly. What an awful job that must be. I suddenly have a newfound respect for healthcare workers.

  Ryan pulls my keys from his pocket and presses them into my palm. He doesn’t take my hand again. And when I reach for his, he shoves them deep into his pockets. His expression becomes even more guarded. He doesn’t even look at me as we make our way out of the hospital.

  When we reach the car, he slides silently into the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt and planting his gaze firmly out the passenger window as I make my way around to the driver’s seat. Deciding he’s the one in control of this situation and not me, I leave him to his sullen brooding and pull out of the parking lot, turning in the direction of his house. I’ll let him decide how to take it from here.

  About ten minutes into the ride home, he finally breaks the silence.

  “I should have been here.”

  I glance at him warily, unsure how to respond. He continues to stare out his window. I focus on the road ahead of me, running through any possible replies to his statement. When I finally open my mouth to ask what he means, he continues.

  “I should’ve fucking been here. And I wasn’t. It’s as simple as that. I talk a big talk about wanting to follow in my father’s footsteps. About wanting to be there for people when they need help. And I couldn’t even help my own fucking mother. Instead I ran. Clear to the other side of the fucking world. What kind of son does that? My dad would be ashamed.”

  The last sentence comes out so hoarsely I can barely hear it. I pull the car over to the side of the road and throw it into park. Turning toward him, I see the tears glistening in his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. Even an idiot would be able to tell he was about to lose it.

  I quickly unbuckle my seatbelt and grab him. The second I do, he breaks. I pull him into my arms as best as I can across the damned center console, cradling his head to my chest. Sobs rack his body over and over.

  “Why? Why me, Haylee?” he asks through heavy gulps of air. “First my dad and Noah. Now my mom. What did I do, Haylee? What did I do to fucking deserve this?” he pleads.

  I pull him tighter against me, hoping to will any strength I might possibly have into him. It kills me to see him like this. Nobody deserves this, but especially not Ryan. He is everything good about this world. He doesn’t have a bad or harmful bone in his body. And fate is an evil bitch for putting him through this. For taking everything he loves most from this world.

  Knowing those thoughts won’t help him right now, I keep them to myself. Instead, I cling to him just as desperately as he clings to me. I run my fingers through his hair, trying to sooth him in any way I can. I murmur the words “it’s okay” over and over in his ear like an idiot. I know it’s not okay. But it’s the only thing I can think of to say.

  “Fuck!”

  His sudden outburst causes me to jump slightly. He pulls himself from me, punching the dash repeatedly. I briefly worry about the airbag deploying, then remember my car is a piece of shit and probably doesn’t have one anyway. If it makes him feel better, he can beat the shit out of it all night for all I care.

  His rage is short-lived. After just a few moments, his shoulders slump and his chin drops to his chest. “I miss her so much,” he whispers. “She’s been gone for so long. So fucking long. And now I have no hope of ever getting her back.” His tears resume. But this time, his sobs are much quieter. He covers his face with his hands, leaning over in his seat. When I hear a whimper escape from his lips, I lose it. It’s one thing seeing him cry and rage and sob. But that whimper tears me in two.

  I climb across the console and plant myself firmly in his lap. He looks at me with confused shock in his eyes, but I ignore it. I jerk him toward me, hugging him as tightly as I can. Resting my cheek against his head, I can feel the tears dampening my face. Together, the two of us hold each other and cry. Maybe for a minute. Maybe for an hour. Maybe for a lifetime. I don’t know and I don’t care. All I know is that seeing this man hurt this much kills me. It makes me feel like a part of me is dying. I’m not crying over the loss of a woman I’ve never met. I’m crying over the pain of the man I’m falling in love with.

  This realization knocks the breath from my lungs. And at the same time, it feels like the most obvious thing on the planet. I’ve kept myself closed off for so long. Kept every sing
le person I’ve met over the last few years as far away as possible. I never expected to feel like this about anyone. But Ryan isn’t just anyone. He makes me feel things I didn’t think were possible for me anymore. Feelings I thought were forever broken inside me. Things years of therapy weren’t able to fix. For the first time in what feels like forever, I am actually happy. An incredible sense of relief floods over me.

  Ryan must feel the change in my posture, because he pulls his head from my chest and looks up at me questioningly. I smile softly. Confusion once again clouds his expression. Taking a deep breath, I swallow my doubts and lean into him.

  My lips graze his slightly, testing. Even now, after I’ve realized how I feel about him, I’m still not able to completely let myself go. I run them back over his once more. It feels nice. Right. I bring my eyes to his and see desire shining through his tears. I’m a shitty person for choosing this moment for this. As if he doesn’t have enough to deal with right now, I go and add me to the list. But it’s too late now. Seeing the look in his eyes, I shut off all my thoughts and jump.

  My lips part as I deepen the kiss. Ryan snaps out of his daze. His hands come up to cup my face, pulling my mouth hard against his. His fingers work their way into my hair and I moan into his mouth. His answering groan rumbles through me, his tongue darting between my lips. Mine eagerly obliges, twisting and sliding against his. Yeah, those doubts and fears I’d been having a minute ago? Gone. Long gone.

  My hands don’t stop moving for a second. I run them up and down his chest, over his shoulders, down his arms. When I reach the hem of his shirt, I shove it up, exposing his stomach and chest. My fingers are eager for his flesh. I trace each line of his abdomen, trying to memorize how each curve feels beneath my touch. My fingers splay across the taut skin, working their way over his chest. All the while, I kiss him with an almost reckless fervor. This feels so damn good. I don’t ever want to stop.

  And we don’t. I have no clue how long we sit there on the side of the road. He kisses me and kisses me until I’m completely lost in him. We could stay here forever as far as I’m concerned.

  He’s the one to finally break the kiss. My lips are raw and I’m completely breathless. But I’ve never felt better in my entire life. I pull him back to me, not ready for this to be over. When he resists, I frown.

  A smile plays over his lips. “We need to get home, Haylee. It’s late. And who knows who could see us. The last thing we need is a cop to stumble upon us.

  I want to disagree. Who gives a shit if a cop comes across us? I’ll gladly pay the damn public indecency fine if he just keeps kissing me. But the look in his eyes tells me this isn’t up for negotiation. I let out a small huff. He smiles again, shifting us both so he can slide out from under me. He gets out of the car and walks around to the driver’s seat. That’s probably a good idea. My brain feels so fuzzy I’d probably get pulled over for drunk driving. And I haven’t had a drop to drink.

  Ryan takes my hand as he turns the engine over. We don’t talk. After a few minutes, he pulls my hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to my knuckle. I sigh contentedly and close my eyes, wanting to imprint this moment in my mind forever.

  The next thing I know, the sun is barreling through the window, shining right in my eyes. I groan. Ryan seriously needs to invest in some blackout curtains or something. It’s impossible to sleep in this room.

  Last night flashes to my mind at the thought of his name. It almost feels like a dream. My tender lips tell me otherwise. I bring my fingers up to my mouth, running them gently across the still-swollen flesh, remembering the feel of Ryan’s mouth pressed against mine. A smile breaks out across my face.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  My head snaps around at the sound of his voice. I should’ve known he’d be awake. The man wakes up at ungodly hours every damn day.

  His military cut has grown out slightly, the short hair sticking up in the back. His eyes are still heavy with sleep. At least he hasn’t been awake for hours. With the dreams I’ve been having, who knows what I might’ve mumbled in my sleep.

  He reaches over and smoothes my hair behind my ear. I’m suddenly self-conscious. He’s seen me in the mornings before. But that was before. My hands fly to my hair, trying to tame it down as best as I can. It’s always a disaster when I first wake up.

  It’s then I realize I’m in nothing but my camisole and underwear. Holy hell. How did that happen? The last thing I remember was the car ride home. There’s no way I came in here and undressed myself. Fear spreads through me momentarily, memories rising to the surface. I bury my face in my pillow, trying to catch my breath. Ryan places his hand on my shoulder softly. “Haylee? You okay?”

  At the sound of his voice, my nerves calm. This is Ryan we’re talking about here. There’s no way he would’ve done anything to hurt me. He probably just didn’t want me to be uncomfortable in my jeans all night long. I peek up at him, keeping most of my face covered by the pillow. I pull the covers tighter around me. “Um, where are my clothes?”

  Realization dawns on him. “Oh. Sorry. You were out cold. I carried you up here and laid you on my bed. But those jeans didn’t look very comfortable. I promise I didn’t look.” His smile is so genuine it’s impossible not to melt under it. I roll back over on my side, keeping the blankets tight around me but relaxing a little under his gaze.

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

  He waves it off. “It was a long day for both of us,” he says, sadness clouding his face. He instantly shrugs it off. “Now. What should we do today?”

  I’m surprised he feels like doing much of anything after yesterday. But if he wants something to take his mind off it, I’ll gladly oblige. I smile at him sweetly. “I’m game for whatever you want to do.”

  I get up and make him breakfast while he showers and shaves. I’m not very good in the kitchen, but I can make some mean French toast. I’m just setting the plates out on the table when he joins me.

  “This smells fantastic. I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “I can’t. Amanda does all the cooking, but French toast is my specialty.”

  He smiles at me as he drenches his toast with maple syrup. He takes a huge bite, his eyes rolling back in his head as he groans. “Holy shit. I think I just fell in love with you.”

  His tone is teasing, but the words still cause my heart to pause. He seems to realize what he said at the same moment. “Um, I mean. This is good…um…” he stammers. I quickly try to lighten the mood.

  “No, I get it. You wouldn’t be the first to declare their undying love for me after eating my French toast.”

  This has the opposite effect from what I was going for. His expression darkens. I realize how that sounded. Now I’m the one fumbling my words, trying to explain. “Er, I mean. Amanda. She’s told me numerous times that she loves me because of my French toast. She loves it. Sometimes I think that’s the only reason she keeps me around.”

  His expression remains clouded but he allows a small smile to graze his lips. We both finish our meal in silence and I leave the room to go get ready for the day.

  Thirty minutes later I’m fully dressed and made up. My hair is pulled back in a high ponytail. Ryan has cleaned up the mess I made in the kitchen and has two travel mugs of coffee ready and waiting. He hands one to me and I take a sip. It’s exactly how I like it. I smile.

  “Supposed to get pretty hot this afternoon. I was thinking maybe we could go to the zoo this morning while it’s still nice out? Then later we can find somewhere to escape the heat?” His tone is questioning, clearly open to objection.

  I haven’t been to the zoo in forever. Like, literally. I’ve never been to the zoo. The prospect fills me with a ridiculous amount of excitement. What twenty-three-year-old gets excited about going to the zoo? This one, apparently. I nod enthusiastically. “The zoo sounds great!” I say, and he laughs at my obvious elation.

  We spend the next few hours wandering around
the different exhibits. The summer sun heats up much faster than we anticipated, but I don’t care. I pull him all over, rushing from cage to cage. Most of the animals are lounging around in the shade, trying to keep cool. But seeing such exotic creatures up close is thrilling. I can’t believe I’ve never come here before.

  We stop and have lunch outside the monkey exhibit. It’s the last one on our agenda and the one I’m most excited about. I wolf down my hamburger in record time and then bounce in my seat as Ryan finishes his.

  “Good lord, woman. They’re just monkeys. You’d think you’d never seen one before.”

  “I haven’t,” I answer.

  Shock fills his face. “You’ve never seen a monkey before?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve never seen any of these animals before. Not in real life anyway. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious with the way I’ve practically yanked your arm out of the socket pulling you around this place all morning.”

  “I thought you were just trying to keep my mind off things. Faking your enthusiasm to keep my spirits up,” he says.

  “Nope. Though I hope I’ve been doing that as well.”

  He shakes his head incredulously. “I can’t believe you’ve never been to the zoo. I would’ve brought you here long ago had I known that.”

  “Yeah, well. I told you my mom wasn’t exactly the greatest. I didn’t really get much of a childhood. Anything I wanted or needed, I had to get for myself. So the zoo wasn’t really much of a priority,” I say, shocking myself by being so upfront and open with him. What’s gotten into me?