Coincidentally But Eternally Connected

Wasted On You

I was angry for the rest of the day. Typically I would want to be alone with my thoughts at a time like this, but instead, I was inside a contained space with Hope. So I chose not to speak to her. I brushed away her compassionate touch and ignored her soft questions. Eventually, she let me be. I observed her in my peripheral vision as she cleaned up from our meal. When she got into the driver's seat, I slunk to the passenger's side and put on my seatbelt wordlessly. I stared out the side window and wallowed in my thoughts.

My mind went to dark places. I thought it would be better if we were no longer together during our escape. Hope and I could separate; I had ways to obtain an additional vehicle. Thoughts crossed my mind that I could draw our pursuers away if we split up. I could turn myself in. I could do any number of things to keep all eyes on me and off of Hope, who was only at risk now thanks to my family.

My sister. My lip curled up in distaste. I was so mad. And I was ashamed. Hannah didn't know I was her brother, but I thought I at least meant something to her. Yet she tricked and humiliated me, even if she did not realize that I could be endangered by contacting her and even more exposed by trying to find her. Hannah's childish, irresponsible decisions had far-reaching consequences.

I did not think I could ever forgive her.

If she wanted to run away, so be it. Good riddance.

I jolted out of my internal rant as the road changed from pavement to bumpy, packed dirt. We traveled for approximately one mile through dense trees. Then we came upon little patches to the sides, which had no trees and appeared to be campsites. Some had old fire rings, others were just bare land. As this was not a popular time of the year for camping, we did not pass a single vehicle or tent.

Hope chose a spot down a side road with a lot of tree cover and pulled the van around so it faced outward, presumably for a faster getaway. She shut off the headlights and engine, then passed through the door to the back and flipped a switch to illuminate the area. I followed her and slid the door behind me, blocking out the light and potential prying eyes. Then I leaned against the wall, arms folded. I still was not ready to talk.

She did not look at me, which stung. I may have been ignoring her, but I did not want her to ignore me, too. I thought to speak with her, but she stepped into the tiny bathroom and pulled the door closed. I sat down on the bench to wait, running my hands through my hair. What could I say to excuse my behavior toward her? Even worse, how could I ask forgiveness for what Hannah did?

An explanation failed me, so when she exited the tiny closet called a bathroom, I went in without attempting to talk first. I could barely fit in, but I had enough room to take care of the necessary tasks. When I opened the door, Hope was laying in bed with her back to me. I sighed and admonished myself for being a coward. Then I removed my clothing, shut off the light, and climbed under the covers in the small bed.

I was still speechless, so I rested a hand on her shoulder. She rolled onto her other side to face me in the dark. "Yes, Jake?"

To my surprise, there was no anger in her voice. No resentment. She only sounded sad. When I didn't answer, she reached her hand to my face, touching it gently. My breath shuddered out in relief at the touch I craved. "I love you, Hope, and I am so sorry for the way I behaved toward you today. You did not deserve it." My voice cracked on the last sentence.

"I love you, too. And you're forgiven. I wasn't mad at you anyway. I could see you needed to contemplate alone, so I gave you space."

"I am undeserving of so much compassion," I replied with self-loathing. "My actions were unacceptable."

"OK, that's enough of that," Hope muttered. Before I could protest, she crashed her lips against mine demandingly. Then she sidled up against me, tugging lightly on my hair and then gently running her hand up and down my back. I felt myself relax under her touch as she continued to kiss me with such focused determination that I was forced to respond. "I love you," she told me again, a fierceness in her voice. "It's OK to be angry at Hannah. It's OK that you shut down for a bit, too." She kissed me again. "However, I will not accept berating yourself repeatedly after I already told you that you are forgiven. Understood?"