Michael had been into cycling for quite some time. He wouldn’t say he was a professional, but an avid cyclist he was. This was definitely a sport he had always enjoyed, and through years of practice, he had become good at it. He had invested a lot of money in his road bike as well as all the best gear—a good helmet (his number-one priority), padded shorts, shoes with clips so his feet never left the pedals during his ride. He also had a computerized odometer to track how many miles he rode. On a good ride, he did about forty miles. On a great ride, he might have reached a hundred.
This Tuesday, the first day of September, was going to be just a so-so day. The sun was only half out; the sky was murky gray in color. It had rained overnight and the roads were slick, some areas coated with a combination of water and oil. The temperature was on the cooler side. Michael had to go back into the house before he left to get a warmer, long-sleeved cycling jersey.
From that point on, it had pretty much been downhill—metaphorically, at least. By the time he was struggling up the third enormous incline on his regular route, sweating and grunting as he pushed his feet into the pedals, he was wishing that he’d picked another of his usual courses, one where he could have coasted a little more. The weather, the temperature and all the thoughts in his mind were just coming together in a perfect storm, making his normally enjoyable ride just another difficult task he had to complete.
Stopping at the crest of the hill, he unclipped his shoes from the pedals and stood at the side of the road, straddling his bike as he took off his helmet. In his earphones, one song ended and another began, an odd, out-of-place love song. He took his iPod off the band that secured it to his arm and looked at it, wondering how this tune had made it into his normal riding mix.
Everything happens for a reason, he reminded himself, smiling a little as he put the iPod back in place.
Deciding to rest for a minute and catch his breath, Michael leaned back on the bike seat again and just listened to the music, letting it take him back to the only place his mind ever wanted to go anymore: to Carolina, to her smile, to the sound of her voice. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and thought about their time at the hotel the previous afternoon. Whenever they were together, it was magical, amazing, so perfect… It was so clear to the both of them at this point that they were meant to be together, that fate had brought them into one another’s lives. There was more to their relationship than just physical attraction. When he looked into Carolina’s eyes, he knew that they were connected on a deeper level, that they were bonded together, somehow, by time and space itself.
And then, with a sigh, his mind involuntarily began to replay the scene that had unfolded when he’d gone home the previous evening. Once again, in living color, he saw the reproving look Julie had given him as soon as he’d walked into the house, the impatient, annoyed sound of her voice when she’d demanded to know where he’d been. She’d been trying to call him, she’d said, to ask him to pick the kids up from school because she’d had some errands to do. He’d bowed his head and listened to her tirade, then simply said that he’d been tied up all day with patients, though Julie hadn’t seemed to care much at all what his answer was. She’d seemed much more interested in lecturing him about how precious her own time was, and how pretty much everything he ever did was wrong.
Closing his eyes, Michael hung his head again now, remembering how this discussion with his wife had turned into an all-out fight. The memory of it just left him feeling completely defeated all over again. Though he usually tried to calm his wife, last night, he’d just been under too much stress already, and he’d given in. He’d argued with her. They’d raised their voices; they’d both said things they shouldn’t have. The children had gone and hidden in their bedrooms. When Michael had gone to apologize to them later and assure them that everything was alright, Emily had seemed so sad, and Josh had barely even looked at him. They were just as tired of the tension in their home as he was. He could tell.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” he asked himself aloud, raising his head once more and looking down the road ahead, the steep, twisting downhill that awaited him. He thought for a moment, but no answers came to him. He shrugged. “Well, at least you’re going to finish your ride. Maybe that will help.”
After putting his helmet back on, he slowly pushed his bike with one foot toward the road’s point of decline. Pausing just a moment at the edge, he stared down the hill, focusing on the turn at bottom, picturing the winding road that lay beyond it. He’d ridden this route a hundred times; he knew it by heart. It was fast, a real challenge. Just what he needed, he thought, to clear his mind.
Clipping his shoe onto the pedal, he set off, coasting down the first leg of the hill into a tuck position. Focusing on that turn at the bottom, he felt the wind brushing against his cheeks, the humidity of the air as he breathed it in. The pulse of the song still playing in his ears. Carolina’s name reverberating through his mind.
At the turn, he leaned down low over the handlebars, making his body more aerodynamic, and steered into the curve, whipping around it at breakneck speed. A short straightaway followed, and he pedaled as hard as he could, trying to outrun the thoughts that were threatening to overtake him.
Carolina, he thought with every push of his feet. Carolina, Carolina, Carolina.
A hard left and he was angling around the next turn already—a long one, more flat, less downhill. He continued pedaling, working hard to maintain the pace he’d already set.
What are you going to do about it? he asked himself again, knowing that he had to come up with an answer. He couldn’t go on like this, couldn’t continue living a life that he knew was—
“It’s a lie!” he shouted suddenly into the wind that rushed across his face, sending a chill down his back, his feet working furiously. Another turn came up, another left, and he was downhill again—but this time pedaling to propel himself even faster, as fast as the thoughts that raced through his head. His marriage. His career. His entire life. All of it meant nothing. All of it was false in the face of what he had with Carolina. A sham. Something that had gotten him by, helped him pass the time until the moment when she had walked into his life.
“A lie!” he said again, the truth of the word hitting him full force. Though he loved his wife—and his children; he loved them more than anything—he saw his relationship with Julie now for what it was. They hadn’t been in love in years; perhaps they never had been. He’d just been a compliant husband for her to push around, to treat like another child. She had never seen him as an equal, and he had put her on a higher pedestal than she had deserved.
But it’s not her fault, he thought now, tears springing to his eyes. Making his way down another straight segment of the road, he slowed down a bit and let go of the handlebars. Sitting up straight on the bike, he rubbed his eyes with his fingers as he kept on pedaling. He squinted them shut tightly for a moment, trying to clear them, then opened them and focused once again on the road ahead of him—and on what he knew he had to do.
“But it’s not my fault, either,” he said, leaning over onto the handlebars once again as another steep downgrade loomed in front of him. He pedaled furiously, propelling himself toward the hill as hard as he could.
Carolina, Carolina, Carolina, he thought in time with the movement of his feet, the music in his ears. We must be together. Now and forever. I’ll give up everything for you. Everything, everything, everything.
Nearing the bottom of the hill and another deeply banked curve, a peace began to wash over him, and he smiled wide for the first time all morning. Suddenly, it seemed, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He realized what he had to do; he made his decision. He chose to be with Carolina no matter what sacrifices he had to make, no matter what the consequences. She was worth it; they were worth it. This was the only option that made sense to him, and he had to follow through on it.
“Yes!” he cried out, feet pedaling faster, his excitement building. He had never felt so sure of anything in his life, and he couldn’t contain it. “Yes!” he shouted again, feeling like his voice, his joy, could reach the tops of the mountains that he saw off in the distance. He looked out at them for a moment, taking his eyes off the quickly approaching turn.
And then in an instant, he was flying through the air, and his shouts were no longer full of elation but laced with terror.
Landing hard against the trunk of an enormous tree nestled in the neck of the road’s bend, Michael cried out in pain, an electric jolt radiating from his head straight down his spine and into his legs. Twenty feet away, his bike lay against the guardrail separating the roadway from the grassy hill beyond it, a mangled mess—bent rims, a flat tire, chain falling off.
“Oh, God,” he moaned, reaching up to unclip his helmet and pull it off his head.
Looking back up the road, Michael found the source of this accident: another slick spot left over from last night’s storm, a puddle of rainwater mixed with oil, more than likely from a leaky truck engine. A recipe for disaster for anyone coming down that hill headfirst in excess of thirty miles an hour.
“And not looking at what they’re doing,” he muttered, cursing himself for ever taking his eyes off the road. He’d been reckless, foolish. He never should have let his happiness overrule his own safety.
But then, he remembered what he’d been happy about. “Carolina,” he said softly, laying his head back against the ground and looking up into the tops of the trees surrounding him, to the sky beyond. A tuft of clouds was just parting right overhead, letting a few random sunbeams through. They shone directly down upon his face, so brightly that he had to close his eyes.
Everything is okay, he told himself, trying to ignore the lingering pain in his back, the bruises and scrapes he could feel on his arms and legs. Everything is good. I’m going to be with Carolina forever. He opened his eyes, blinking back tears in the dazzling sunlight. How can anything be wrong ever again?
Bringing a hand up to shield his eyes, with the other hand he reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt and withdrew his cell phone. Thankfully, it had survived the crash and still seemed to be in working order. Flipping it open, he brought up a new text message and typed out a message to Carolina as fast as he could with his aching hands. He didn’t tell her about what had happened here; he knew that she would be getting her kids ready for school and didn’t want her to worry. He didn’t even tell her about the decision he’d made. Somehow, he just knew that she would already know.
Run away with me. That was all that it said. And he sent it out to her, knowing that it would be enough.