What I Would Do for You

Edición de la obra What I Would Do for You

He enters the car accompanied by a chill from the evening wind and the car rocks gently until he’s seated behind me and the door is shut. His scent fills my lungs first and as it does, I remember that I’ve been told that smell is the sense that holds the most memory. Maybe I read it somewhere, but I’ve never known something to be truer than that fact is now. When I open my eyes, his chilling gaze is on mine in the rearview mirror and my treacherous heart chokes me in an attempt to escape. It hovers at the base of my throat, pounding viciously in protest. I did always love him. There wasn’t a moment that I didn’t love him. He knows that. He has to know that I still love him; we just simply couldn’t be together. We decided. We decided together. “You said you’d let me go,” I whisper, speaking over my strangled breaths. My gaze never leaves his, even as tears prick my eyes. Not until he answers me. “I changed my mind.”