Our Broken World

Chapter 16

Twenty minutes later I'm lying on the bed in some short PJ's I found in the wardrobe, thinking about everything that's happened. We have to make it out of here tomorrow morning. We can't lose time; we have to get to New York as soon as possible.

I keep thinking about New York and so I can't fall asleep; I keep tossing and turning in bed. I feel like something's missing. Someone's missing. I'd sleep in the same bed, next to Mikey, since we'd started travelling alone. But now when I look next to me, I expect – I want – to see someone else beside me – Dylan.

Something just pulls me up from my bed and towards his room. I knock lightly, quietly and open the door before I get an answer. I enter and close the door behind me. For a few short moments I just stand at the door and look at Dylan.

Suddenly, he sits bolt upright in bed, looking at me through the darkness. I know he can see it's me, because I can see he's shirtless. It doesn't make me blush though, it just ignites the passion and love within me.

''Tay? Is everything okay? Are you okay?'' He says worriedly.

I nod, but just to be sure he got it, I add: ''Yeah, I'm fine, I just ... I don't want to be alone.''

He shifts on the bed, making some room for me and motions for me to sit down. I walk over to the bed and sit down next to him. We're facing each other, just gazing into each other's eyes for a few long seconds.

''Are you okay?'' He asks again, but this time he means it differently. He's asking how I'm holding up. I see pain and sadness in his eyes and I wonder if it's because of me. Does he feel sorry for me? Does he suffer because I'm suffering?

''I'm holding up,'' I answer, and add: ''It's hard, but ... I have no choice.''

He nods, puts his hand on mine and says: ''I know. We'll reach New York soon. We'll get him back. I promise.''

''And then? After that?'' I ask. What I really want to ask is: Are you going to leave me again after that?

''Then ... I don't know. I don't know what the future holds,'' He avoids my question. I know he knows what I mean.

''Dylan ...'' I want to protest, but he says: ''Tay, let's just focus on the present. This world is so unpredictable and so is a future in it. Who knows what'll happen. For now, let's just focus on getting to New York and saving Mikey. Let's focus on now.''

In a way he's right. We should focus on now, on this, on us in this moment. I love him and he loves me, but there's a shadow hanging over us. So much has happened, so much time has passed, yet I still feel the hurt he caused me the first time he left. Despite the time that has passed, I can still feel the remnants of the pain his departure caused me.

I look at him with sadness in my eyes and finally feel ready to say: ''Why did you leave?''

Suddenly, his ever-present poker face is gone and it's like a storm of sadness, pain, suffering and anger starts to rage within him and I can see it all clearly in his eyes.

When he speaks, his voice is cracked, low, quiet. Almost broken. ''I didn't want to. But I had to.''

He uses the same words he did when we said goodbye to each other at the airport four years ago.

He didn't even tell me he was leaving. I had to find out from his parents when I went looking for him. I went with the intention to tell him that I loved him and that I wanted to be with him. I knew he felt the same and I wanted to tell him that I didn't care what other people thought or said; what mattered was what we felt. We loved each other. But I wanted to declare my love for him, hoping he would have the bravery and strength to do the same. I went to look for him that day with the intention to kiss him, to hold him, to give myself to him completely. I might've been young, but I didn't know anything as surely as I did the fact that I loved him and wanted to be his forever.