The Meeting Point by Olivia Lara
Seventy
“We’re here,” he finally says after two hours of driving.
I’m awake now. A bit apprehensive about what we’re going to do, a bit confused about this fight going on inside my mind, but I try not to let it show.
We get out of the car and walk toward a field and into a tent, where a man and a woman ask us all sorts of questions and make us sign a waiver. I barely see what I’m signing.
“Did I just give away all my possessions? Are we joining a cult?” I ask, snickering.
“Sort of. Do you want a full surprise or it’s enough of a surprise as it is?”
“Is it a nice surprise?”
“I hope so, otherwise it’s going to be a long drive back.”
“Full surprise then,” I say, feeling suddenly risqué.
“OK. I don’t have a blindfold, so—”
He puts his hands on my eyes. I feel my eyes burning under his touch and shiver.
“Sorry. Too cold?” he asks and rubs his hands together, then puts them back on.
No. Not too cold. My eyes burn even more and that hot sensation is going through my body all the way to my toes. Is it normal to react like this when he innocently touches me?
He leads me forward and helps me climb over something. As soon as my feet touch a marshmallow-like surface, I a man’s voice asking if we’re ready.
“I’m not sure,” I say laughing.
“We’re ready,” says Ethan.
Although I have no idea where we are or what we’re doing (hopefully not bungee jumping), I feel strangely calm. He’s here with me, his hands on my eyes. Everything’s fine.
I feel a movement, then hear a hiss, and I put my hands on his to make him let go.
“Not yet,” he says. “Just a bit longer,” and I pull my hands back.
Movement again, this time stronger, and an actual physical pit in my stomach. We’re lifting. I’m not imagining, we’re… are we floating?
I don’t know if it’s seconds or minutes, but he takes off his hands and when I open my eyes, I’m so shocked I genuinely feel like crying.
We’re up in the air, the sun is rising. We’re in a hot air balloon above fields and vineyards and a beautiful lake. And I’m completely and utterly speechless. I don’t even try to say something because I know it will not come out intelligible.
“Good morning again,” he says. “This time, properly.”
“Wha—this is—we are—”
I can’t even make a sentence.
The balloon swishes to the side, I lose my balance and Ethan grabs my hand to prop me back up. I’m up, I’m fine now, but he doesn’t let go and I don’t pull my hand either. The thing is, I don’t want him to let go. It’s scary and confusing and it doesn’t make sense, but I don’t want him to let go. I want him to hold my hand and cover my eyes again with his hands and… kiss me. I look away, ashamed of these thoughts. I shouldn’t have them. But I do.
The man piloting the balloon stands away from us, on the other side of the basket, giving us privacy. The other night was picture-perfect, but this moment is a hundred times that.
“Don’t tell me you picked this idea from my book as well,” I say.
“Actually, I did. You said you have a thing for sunrises. And it’s something I picked up from my book too. I know you missed a sunrise, which would’ve been very special for you.”
Don’t bring that up now. Don’t. Don’t pop the bubble and ruin the magic.
“I wanted to give you another one in return.”
He didn’t ruin the magic. He just created it and if I was a different kind of woman, I would kiss him right now. But being as I am, all I can do is stare into his eyes and together we stare at the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen. I’m overwhelmed by all these feelings, the beauty of this moment, and the big heart of this man. A man who, I’m discovering day by day and hour by hour is so different from what I thought he was.
I’m quiet on our way back; just have a lot on my mind. Not sure if he feels it or our quiet times align, but Ethan doesn’t force a conversation. Back at the cottage, he parks the car and tells me he’s not coming straight to Café Azure because he has some things to take care of first.
“Thank you,” I say. “This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
“It was a first for me, too. Just thought we’d try it together.”
What and how he’s saying it makes my heart grow and grow, like it’s about to explode. I wish I could react differently, but this is what it has to be under these particular circumstances.
He tilts his head. “How are we on the hate front?”
“On the wha—”
And then I remember. “Same-o, same-o. Nice try with the cute sunrise though.”
He chuckles, I smile and thank him again, turn around and leave. I leave this man standing there, a man I’m painfully attracted to, both physically and mentally, and a man I connect to on all possible and impossible levels. But I leave him like that and I’m incapable of saying what I wish I could, because somewhere there’s this other man I’ve been looking for. A man I’ve never seen, I’ve never held hands with, kissed, laughed with, watched a sunrise or sunset with. Alisa is right; I have a talent for complicating my life like it’s nobody’s business.