It seems like days have passed by since we stopped at that awful diner for lunch. I know it's only been hours, though. Still, I can barely keep my eyes open. I glance over at Mia in the passenger seat. I know, even though she won't admit it, that this has to be bothering her. Just as I thought, her eyes are wide open, staring at the road in front of us, slightly tensing every single time a car passes by. I look back to the road and slowly move my hand to cover hers. Like always, it's ice cold. I take her other hand and bring them closer to me, blowing on them to warm them up like I've done so many times before. I place a light kiss on each palm then slide my fingers in between hers.
"You're tired," she says, now staring at me.
"I'm fine," I shake my head, but I know my bloodshot eyes betray me.
"I can drive for a while," she says calmly.
"I'm fine, Mi," I try not to look at her.
"It's getting late," she continues. "We should probably stop soon, anyway."
"What's nearby?" I ask and she removes her hand from mine.
"I don't know," she replies, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "I'll look it up."
We end up stopping about an hour later at some hole-in-the-wall motel. I don't really mind, there's less of a chance that someone'll see me here. Just in case, she goes inside to get a room and when she comes back out, she tells me where to go. We get the small bags that we packed just for this purpose out of the car, but leave the rest, aside from the instruments. I put the instruments by the window on the far side of the room and then lay down on the bed, face first. I can hear Mia setting our things up in the bathroom and I have every intention of getting up to help her, but then I wake up and she's sitting beside me in the dark.
"How long was I asleep?" I groan.
"Only, like, 30 minutes," she shrugs, running her fingers through my tangled hair.
"Sorry," I grunt as I sit up. "I was gonna help you put that stuff up."
"It's not a big deal," she says nonchalantly as she lays back on the bed. "There wasn't much to do. Besides, you drove the whole time."
She closes her eyes and mindlessly traces my fingers with hers. I look down at her, and even though she appears calm, I can't help but feel like she's burying her emotions.
"Is this hard for you?" I ask quietly, leaning on one elbow and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with the other.
"Is what hard for me?" she opens her eyes. "Going back home?"
"Going back home," I nod. "Taking a long car ride to get there."
"Oh," she frowns. "I can't let it bother me forever, Adam."
"I know that," I nod again. "But, that doesn't mean that it can't bother you right now."
"I can still hear them," she says quietly. "As long as I can hear them, I'm okay. I can handle it."
"You can hear them right now?" I ask, laying down beside her, the top of our heads touching.
"Yeah," she smiles a little. "You know what they're saying? My mom, at least?"
"What?" I can't help but smile, too.
"That she's glad we found our way back to each other."
She's quiet for a minute.
"And that I should kiss you."
"Well," I say, looking her straight in the eye. "Your mom always has been a smart woman."
She smiles at me before I lean down and place my lips to hers. The tiredness seems to leave my body as we move closer to each other, and by the time she reaches for the hem of my shirt, it's like I've never felt more awake.
When I finally do fall asleep, she's tucked into my side with her head resting on my shoulder. In times like these, I still find it hard to believe that she's really here. I waited for this for so long, dreamed of it. I've had her back for a few months now and I still can't seem to shake the feeling that at any moment, I could wake up and she'd be gone. But, just like every morning since she came back into my life, I wake up and she's still there, her leg intertwined with mine.
I sit up carefully and slide out from under the sheets. I feel like I got hit by a truck last night. I make sure that the water is hot before I step into the shower, and instantly I feel one hundred times better. I emerge and find that she's left out a pair of clothes for me and the ones that I took off last night have already been put away. As a matter of fact, with the exception of what she needs to start her day, everything has already been put away. I still don't understand how she can be so productive so early: we only slept for a few hours.
"I really need coffee," she says when she sees me standing in the doorway.
'We'll get some," I laugh. "I can assure you."
"I'm gonna get a shower really quick, and then we can head out. I want to get an early start."
"I'll go ahead and put the stuff that you don't need in the car."
"Sounds good," she says giving me a quick kiss before she closes the bathroom door.
Once we check out, we hit the road again in search of decent coffee. We finally find it and then we're off again. Her eyes are still glued to the road, as wide as can be. It's absolutely silent in the car, so I turn the radio on. It's still set on the classical station. The piece that's on is just about over, but she smiles anyway. And then the next piece begins to play. I recognize it immediately, and I know for a fact that she does, too. Her eyes get wider, if that's even possible, and I see her shut down. I can see her reliving the terror in her memory, and I instantly move to change the station. She stops me, though, her hand grabbing my arm. I pull over to the side of the road, her hand still on my arm, and I watch as she relives a tragedy, all while we listen to the piece that was playing when her entire world was taken from her.
