Leon

I'm blanketed by fog and rain. It's suffocating, putting my nerves on edge. I tug at the collar of my shirt as my lungs strain for air. My heart thumps rapidly, pumping blood through my body, but feeling useless. What's the point of having a beating heart when the person I love isn't here? Although it's fuelling my body, the rest of me feels empty and cold. Hollow.

I wonder if this is how Liz felt that day. The day I lied to her. The day I broke my promise.

I sit on Saint-Sangster rock, the dampness soaking through my shorts. Although it's raining and fog skirts the redwoods, the air is humid, making a sticky sweat breakout across my bare legs and arms. Aside from wet hair and damp clothes, I didn't know what to expect when I arrived. Not at Saint-Sangster rock, but when I knocked at the door with the wedding invitation in hand. I can admit I never thought it would end this way, though. I never expected Liz to give me another chance but be incapable of ending things with James. 

Sighing, I run a hand through my damp hair. If Liz doesn't show up... If I continue to hold on to my threads of hope... Standing up, I pace the length of the rock and recount all my mistakes. The last thing I want to do is leave her again. But if I don't leave, if I continue to hold on, it will hold me back. As much as I love Liz, I have a life I need to continue to nurture. If I could travel back in time and change my actions, I would. There are so many variables I would change. I'd tell Liz about my mom. I'd drive to Whistler, pick her up, and then we'd fly to St. John's to be with my mom. My ego and need to protect Liz at all costs wouldn't have gotten in the way. Our lives would've played out much differently. 

Cool droplets of water streak the back of my neck, and I glance up at the sky. I've always hated the rain. It's nothing but depressing and gloomy. It intensifies my sullen emotions. I kick at a rock. Rain sucks. Life sucks. Love sucks. The inevitable barrier between Liz and I fucking sucks.

Just as I'm about to head for my mountain bike I left at the top of the trail, a branch cracks. I freeze, my eyes scanning the area for another human or an animal. Whistler is one of the most popular hiking destinations in British Columbia. Even on rainy days, seeing a hiker exploring unmarked trails wouldn't surprise me. But I'm also next to a water source in the middle of a forest. Seeing a bear or deer isn't off the table. Basic facts aside, the possibility of having a run-in with a bear concerns me. I'm suddenly wishing I'd brought my bike down here instead of leaving it leaning against a tree at the top of the small incline.

With tension weighing on my shoulders, I continue to observe my surroundings, studying every detail and movement. When I don't hear or see anything, I relax a little. Whatever made that noise must've been going in the opposite direction. However, just as I'm in the process of turning around, I see a flash of blonde hair at the top of the incline.

My breath catches in my throat. Liz rapidly scans the area, stopping when she makes eye contact with me. Even from a distance, I can see her shoulders sink in relief. Her name parts my lips as she slides down the incline with grace. Mud and rocks slides beneath her Converse as she skids to a stop at the bottom. Several emotions fill my chest as we stare at each other. She's supposed to be dressed to the nines, enjoying an Italian meal with her friends and family. She's not supposed to be dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a sweater, muddling her way through rain and mud. Her hair is plastered to her forehead and mud splatters her jeans.

She looks beautiful.

Shaking her head, Liz jogs over to me, stopping when we're an arm's length apart. "You're here," she breathes.

Judging by how much darker the clouds have gotten and how much more intense the shadows on Liz's face are, I'd say the sun is setting. I don't know why she's here. I don't know why Liz has skipped out on her rehearsal dinner when we already clarified what needed to happen, which she couldn't do.

"I-I am," I reply.

Liz averts her gaze from mine and begins to run her fingers over the flat surface of Saint-Sangster rock. Everything, save for the low rush of water behind us and the drops of rain, is silent. I want to hold my breath until she speaks, but my body won't allow me to. All I can do is stare. 

"The day you didn't show up," Liz says quietly. "Was one of the worst days of my life."

I cringe, regret swelling inside me. I have a feeling this conversation isn't going to be good.

"I put so much effort into it, Leon," she continues, her eyes still settled on the rock. "I brought a blanket, kettle corn, wore my bracelets. I even made a freaking photobook so we could reminisce over it together while we sat by the river and pigged out on junk food. I waited five whole hours for you to show up and you never did. And then you called. You lied to me about what was happening. I could hear it in your voice..."

"Liz..." I whisper, closing my eyes. An apology will never be enough to fix what I did to her, but it's all I can do. I can't change what happened. All I can do is tell her every time I think about lying to her or cancelling our plans, I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. I feel nothing but regret. "I'd take it back if I could." 

"I hated you," she says, her eyes flicking up to mine. In her deep green eyes, I see pain. It makes my heart throb. "I resented you for a long, long time. But you coming here... telling me why you didn't come back to me... it changed everything. Leon, I never hated you. I used my emotions as an illusion to make myself think I did. The truth is, I was upset I couldn't get over you."

I have to sit down on the rock, the pool of water atop it soaking through my shorts, in order to ensure I don't fall over. I run a hand through my hair. This can't be real. It can't be. My head spins as I try to come to terms with what's being said.

"Which is why," she continues, stepping between my legs and taking my face in her hands. She tilts my face, forcing me to look upward, into her eyes. "I went to the rehearsal dinner tonight to end things with James. I told him, Leon. I'm tired of making other people happy. For once in my life, I want to be happy. I want to be happy with you. We never got the chance we deserved."

"Why?" I ask, despite the fact that I already know the answer. I need to hear it from her mouth. I need to hear her say it.

"Because," she smiles. "I love you."

I cock an eyebrow, suppressing the grin I can feel tugging at my lips. "How do I know you don't have the ring stashed away in your sweater?" I joke.

Liz steps back. "Search me. And if a pat-down isn't good enough, you can do a strip search later."

My heart is pounding so hard and fast I fear I'm going to slip into cardiac arrest. My palms are clammy. My knees are shaky as I stand up and step toward her, taking her invitation for a pat-down as serious as I can. I start with the pockets of her jeans, feeling the junction between her thigh and hip, and then her rounded, firm ass. Keeping my gaze level with hers, I give it a good squeeze, watching as her green eyes darken with hunger. I keep moving my hands, up and up, slipping them into the pockets of her sweater. Up her stomach and to her breasts, which I take my time with, teasing her with my tender touch through the fabric. Her lashes flutter closed and a small sigh escapes her lips.

"So," I say, my voice rich with emotion. "I don't feel any ring, but just to be sure, I might need to do that strip search later."

Her eyes twinkle as she laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck. "You're allowed to do a strip search whenever you want, Leon."

Gripping her hips, I pick her up and wrap her legs around my waist, pressing my forehead against hers. Water slides down our faces, mixing with the tears running down my cheeks. "I love you, Liz," I choke. "I don't know why the hell you chose to give me another chance, but I promise I will never leave you again. It's you and me from now on. As it should have been."

She smiles, pressing her lips against mine. "You and me," she murmurs, sliding her hands down to the drawstring of my shorts.

A strangled gasp escapes my throat as she slips her hand beneath the waistband of my shorts, palming me through the fabric of my boxers.

"What," I ask, my voice strained, "happened to modesty?"

"Fuck modesty," Liz replies, a hint of amusement in her voice. "No one is out in the rain. We have the forest to ourselves. Why don't we recreate a memory? It's one of my personal favourites."

With one hand, I reach down and expertly flick open the button of her jeans. "Fine by me, Sangster."

She giggles and then presses another kiss to my lips.

Now that the truth is out, now that we wholly and completely belong to each other, we can do whatever we want to do.

"I love you, Eliza," I whisper.

She smiles and toys with the waistband of my boxers before wiggling out of my arms so she can kick off her jeans. She shivers in the rain, but it doesn't bother her. We're a mess of emotions as we strip each other down, foregoing our modesty and acting out of love an emotions.

When Liz and I are naked, our heated bodies pressed together in the rain, she kisses me again, urging me to continue. Without a second thought, I wrap her legs around my waist and oblige.

And I think this is the perfect start to what could've been.