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After we’ve traveled about half a mile down the trail, Chris insists we stop. With my head injury, I’m in no shape to keep hiking. I need a break.
He wraps his arms around me. I feel tired. So tired. “Are you hanging in there?” he says. “Don’t go to sleep on me, all right? You’ve got to stay awake.”
“I’ll try,” I promise him.
He smiles down at me. “Tell me something.”
“What?”
“Did you really mean it when you said you never wanted to marry me?”
I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to feel his lips pressed against mine.
But even more than that, I want to sleep.
“I didn’t mean it,” I answer.
Chris grins again. “I didn’t think so.”
“I was scared for you,” I admitted. “I thought that ...”
Chris shushes me. “I get it. You don’t need to explain.”
Surrounded by trees and bushes, we’re staying to the side of the trail so we can stay more easily hidden. At least I hope we’re hidden. I’m staring up at the bright blue sky, at the leaves rustling gently in the breeze. A pair of birds passes by overhead.
“Don’t fall asleep.” Chris gives me a little shake.
“Huh, what?”
“Don’t fall asleep,” he repeats.
“I wasn’t.”
“What are we going to do now?” he asks after a minute.
I need to think, but my head hurts too much. Why am I always the one who has to come up with the plan?
“Run away with me,” Chris says.
“What?”
“I’ll take you someplace far from here. Someplace where your dad will never find us. We’ll be safe. We’ll be together. We’ll be ...”
I press my finger against his mouth. Was that the wind? I’m certain I heard something.
Chris leans forward and whispers in my ear. “I’m serious, Mia. I know you didn’t mean what you said back there. I know you thought that the only way to keep me safe was to break up with me. But think about it. Even if we break up, that’s not going to stop your dad if he wants to come after me, right? So either we go to the police, or we ...”
“No police,” I interrupt. Wasn’t he listening to anything I said? Doesn’t he realize my dad has contacts everywhere?
“Okay. Okay. No police. I just thought that ...” Chris sighs. “So there’s only one option. You run away with me. We’ll find someplace. I’ve got a cousin in Missouri. We can pool our money together. Take a train ...”
I shake my head, even though each time I move, my brain feels like someone’s swinging a baseball bat against my skull. “Don’t you think he can figure out about your cousin in Missouri?”
“We’ll find somewhere else then,” Chris insists. “We’ll run to Canada. Mexico. Come on. There’s gotta be someplace.”
He’s right. He’s right about everything. Breaking up won’t solve our problems. Our only hope is if we stay together.
“I just want to keep you safe.” He’s holding me close, and my blood is smeared across his forearm. He still has his shirt off, but he feels just as warm and just as protective as if we were wrapped in a king-sized duvet.
“Come on,” he says. “We should start by getting you to a hospital. You need stitches or something for your head. Then we’ll figure out how much money we have, see where we can go ...”
I squeeze my eyes shut. How can he make it sound so easy? How can we just leave everything behind? Our graduation. Our friends.
My mom ...
“I don’t feel so good,” I say.
Chris takes a look at my head. He must think I’m talking about my injury. He scoops me up in his arms. “It’s going to be okay,” he assures me. “When I had that dream, when God showed me that I’m going to become a pastor and make you my wife, I made him a promise. I promised him I’d take care of you no matter what. Give you the shirt off my back.” He chuckles and looks down at his bare arms. “Guess he took me literally.”
I want to laugh when he says this. I really do. Want to believe this is all going to work out. That Chris and I can just walk out of these woods, bandage my bleeding head, and make our escape. Canada? Mexico? Why not? Other people have run away before. Disappeared.
Am I ready to leave everything else behind? Everything but Chris?
And does it really matter? Now that Chris knows, now that I’ve told him everything, neither of us are safe here. We have to get out. We have to ...
Chris stops in the trail. “Did you hear that?” he whispers, crouching us both down behind a tree trunk. I’m still in his arms, my biceps tense and sore from clinging to him so tightly.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”
“Mia! Mia!” It’s my dad. He’s found us already. How did he get here so fast? How did he know we were on the other side of the lake?
“Stay here,” Chris tells me. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Mia!” Dad shouts. He’s not near us yet. If Chris got a running start ...
“You go,” I hiss in Chris’s ear.
“What? You’re crazy.”
“Go,” I tell him, pleading. “You can run faster than he can. Go. I’ll stay here. Distract him when he comes by.”
Chris is looking at me like I’ve grown purple eyebrows. “I’m not leaving you here all by yourself.”
“I’ll be all right,” I assure him. My dad is a very dangerous man, but he would never hurt me.
Never.
And in an instant, I know. This is what I can do. This is how I can save the man I love.
Back by the dock, I was ready to make Chris believe I’d stopped loving him. I was ready to make him think I hated him if that’s what it took to save his life.
In the end, I think I knew it had to end this way. I give him what I know will be our last kiss.
“Go,” I tell him. “Don’t tell me where you’re going. Don’t write to me when you get there. Just be safe and start your life over.”
“I won’t leave you here.” His voice is stubborn, and each second he hesitates my father is getting closer. Pretty soon, I won’t be able to protect Chris at all.
“Please,” I beg. “Do this for me.”
I press my forehead against his. Assure him once more that I’ll be safe. “My dad will never lay a finger on me,” I promise.
“I’ll never stop loving you,” Chris whispers, holding me close for one last second. “Remember that,” he says, his eyes steady. “Don’t ever forget.”
I’m not sure if it’s his words or something in his gaze that tells me what he’s planning. Or maybe I just know him so well.
“No, don’t!” I shout. It doesn’t matter now if Dad hears where we are or not. I try to grab Chris’s hand, but he’s already darting down the trail.
Back toward the lake.
Straight toward my father.