He wouldn't let her go. Not now, not ever.
The soft hum of tires on the Columbia, South Carolina highway filled the air as Eric's hands gripped her hand. In his other, the wheel.
Maya sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixated on him like he was a vision she had dreamed up. Her hazel eyes traced the sharp line of his jaw, the playful smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth even as he focused on driving. Had he gotten more handsome? She shook her head slightly. How is that even possible? Eric caught her staring in his peripheral vision and smirked.
"You okay over there, or are you planning on hypnotizing me into missing the exit?" She smiled softly, her voice a whisper, "I just missed you."
"Missed you too," he replied, his voice quiet but deep with sincerity. He gave her hand a small squeeze and brought it to his lips for a kiss. She melted just a little more. For a while, they said nothing, words seemed unnecessary. They'd talked every single day over calls, laughed over blurry FaceTimes, sent each other ridiculous pictures of their meals, outfits, and any dogs they passed. But now, sitting side-by-side, the silence was golden. They didn't have to fill the gaps anymore.
He thought back to the first time he saw her, years ago, her auburn hair catching the sunlight like a flame, the faint sound of jingling bracelets as she pushed her curls behind her ears. She'd ordered coffee, eyes darting between options with the kind of deliberation you'd expect from someone choosing their final meal. He had stared. Of course he had. She'd noticed, turned, and with a cheeky smile had said, "Can I help you, or are you just going to chew on that straw forever?" He could still hear her voice, still see the exact way her lips curved into that smirk. And here they were now, years later. Better. Stronger.
When they pulled into their driveway at the edge of town, Maya's heart clenched. The house stood tall and inviting, a two-story home they'd renovated in the summer two years ago. It was simple but elegant, with a big shed for his woodworking projects and a sunlit library-slash-office for her. She swore it smelled like lavender the day they moved in, and it still did. Columbia itself stretched around them, a city filled with charm but not much noise, where the edges bled into peaceful stretches of green. From their living room window, you could catch the glimmer of Lake Murray in the distance on a clear day. Tonight, though, everything was dark. Just the two of them, finally home.
Eric pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. Before she could lift a single bag, he was already at her door, grabbing her suitcase like the gentleman he was.
"Don't even think about it," he teased. She rolled her eyes.
"One day I'll carry my own things again."
"Not while I'm alive." The front door creaked open, and Maya stepped inside, inhaling deeply. Home. The wooden floors creaked beneath her tired boots, and the soft scent of pine and wood polish hit her, evidence that Eric had kept the house spotless. She dropped her coat and turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. The living room, with its oversized couch and decorated mantelpiece; the open kitchen, its counters spotless. Her eyes landed on him standing there, watching her with an amused look. "You okay?"
"Just... taking it all in," she whispered.
"I missed this. I missed you." Maya yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She blinked up at Eric, her hazel eyes soft with exhaustion. Eric chuckled, tilting his head slightly.
"You sure you don't want to go to bed? You're halfway there already."
"No!" she said sharply, though her grin gave away her playful tone. He blinked.
"No?"
"Did you forget?" She raised an eyebrow. "Forget what?" he asked, his face twisting into mock confusion. "Oh, don't play with me," she grinned. His smirk returned, and he reached into his coat, pulling out a tiny notebook. A small clink echoed as his pen dropped to the floor. "Eleven ideas," he said, handing her the crumpled notebook pages.
"As you wished. Could've made a hundred, but I'm generous." Maya saw the notebook and smiled, soft and sweet.
"Darling, you know we're doing this for us. Or don't you want to anymore?" He leaned in, eyes glinting with challenge.
"Oh, I want it. Just don't know if you can handle this." She smirked.
"As if that could ever happen." Their laughter echoed through the quiet house, blending into a moment of perfect stillness. The world outside disappeared, no traffic, no birds, no hum of neighbors. Just them.
Finally, they kissed. Slow and lingering at first, then harder, faster. Two months of longing poured into a single moment. It wasn't enough. It couldn't be enough. Eric's hands came up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks as if to reassure himself that she was real, here, and not about to disappear. He kissed her deeply, pouring everything into the moment, the loneliness, the love, the quiet ache of two months spent apart. Maya reached up, her fingers wrapping gently around his wrists, pulling his hands away just enough to meet his eyes.
