The hours seemed longer in the humid island air of Negril, Jamaica. The effect of this for most was an abiding sense of bliss.
But for Keisha, staring out the glass doors of the bungalow they’d reserved and into the lush greenery of the garden, the stillness was torture.
She couldn’t stop thinking of‘Jamal, the only man she’d ever loved. She was to have shared the rest of her life with him here, in the island paradise she’d always dreamed about.
But now she didn’t know if he was alive or dead. She didn’t know if she was, either. All she knew was that she was filled with regret.
After reading the news on the Internet of her mother’s death and her father’s impending imprisonment, she regretted that she’d never said good-bye to them because she thought that she’d have another chance.
She regretted taking the money and leaving Jamal in the hands of the police. She regretted that she’d never had the chance to tell him how much he’d changed her with his kiss. She regretted that when it counted the most, she’d refused to stay and fight, in spite of her promise to do otherwise.
Keisha sat down on the king-sized bed and inhaled the scent of the room. It was damp, and salty, and sweet, like the mist of the ocean, or the taste of her tears.
She’d cried enough of them to make an ocean of her own, and still the pain was there, like a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.
She took a bath, and as she tried and failed to soak the hurt away, she thought of all she’d been through with Jamal: the summer nights as children, the feud between their fathers, the plan to leave the country, the gunshots, and the running.
She’d survived all of that, she thought, only to die of a broken heart.
Keisha got out of the tub and dried herself, then dressed quickly and walked outside to walk barefoot along the white sands of the beach.
She stopped when she was directly in front of the setting sun, and watched its red and orange burn blue against the clouds.
“Why, Jamal?” she asked as she watched the beautiful Jamaican sunset pour over her like so much warm water. “Why did you make me think you would always be with me?” She sobbed softly as the sun dropped into the sea.
“Because I will,” a voice said, seemingly from somewhere deep inside her.
She turned around, and out of the gathering shadows, she picked out the shape of his eyes, eyes she would never forget, staring at her from a few feet away.
Keisha ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. She
kissed his face and held his hands and touched him everywhere, just to make sure that he was real.
“Jamal,” Keisha said, kissing his fingers one by one. “It can’t be you.”
He kissed her back, tasting her salty tears.
“What happened?” she asked, searching his eyes. “How did you get away from them?”
“That wasn’t me they grabbed, Keisha. That was some dude who snuck a gun into the terminal. When I saw ’em grab him, I just went the other way. Then I got the next flight down.”
She kissed him before he could say another word. And when she’d had her fill of his lips, she stood back and looked into his eyes.
“So now what?” she asked seductively.
“You tell me.”
Keisha turned to go back to their bungalow, and her smile shone through the rapidly falling darkness.
“You rollin’ with me or not?” she said, holding out her hand.
He looked into the sunset. Then he turned his gaze on Keisha. He gave his hand to her. And in that moment, he gave her his heart, as well.
“Ride or die,” Jamal whispered.
They were the same two words she’d whispered to him before—words he’d never fully understood until that moment. As he stood there on the beach, looking into Keisha’s eyes, he pledged his loyalty and his life to her. He was going to ride with her until the end of their journey, or he was going to die trying.