Runaway Hearts

“Hey there Delilah”- he always started conversations out this way, as if I hadn’t had enough ‘Plain White Tee’s’ references to last me a lifetime or two. But I still smiled.

I smiled every single time.

“It’s allegedly very nice in New York City,” I’d say, “At least that’s what they keep telling us.”

He always had a smart comeback for almost anything I said, but this time.. well this time in particular he didn’t. Instead of witt, instead of sarcasm he used his heart.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to take you someday, so you can know for sure.”

I remember my face growing red, and looking at my boots. He always knew what to say.

The memory disappeared and I looked at him now, he drug a hand across his tired face, almost as if he could wipe away the stress that was evident in his eyes. And I knew, looking at him, that maybe this time he didn’t know what to say. I shook my head. It was okay, because I didn’t either.

***

“Are you hungry?” It was the first thing spoken for hours. I turned and looked at him, it was almost as if he had said it in another language.

He stared back at me, his green eyes trying to read my response. I was trying to read him.

He smiled, one of the first semi-real smiles I’d seen from him in a while. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
As if it had known it would be usefall, a small town diner popped up on the side of the road.
We parked and walked to the small diner, there was only a handful of cars in the parking lot, it seemed like there was even less people inside.
A waitress with a withered smile sat us in a booth in the back corner. She took our drink orders - a sweet tea and a cherry coke- before bustling back into the kitchen.
I wondered why it was, the diner was almost completely empty.. maybe she felt my need to be hidden. Maybe she could pick up we were running. Maybe, just maybe, she understood.
I shook my head and redirected my attention, somewhere other then these paranoid thoughts would be nice. I picked up the menu.
There was a quiet laugh from across the booth, and I lowered my menu to see his green eyes peeking at me.
“What?” I asked, suddenly paranoid I had somehow managed to embarrass myself yet again.
“Nothing,” he said, “Just that I know that no matter what the menu says you’ll order the same thing you always do - “
I cut him off, “I do not always order the sa-”
“Chocolate chip pancakes and hashbrowns.”
I pursed my lips, an action that only made him smile more.
“It’s true.”
I shook my head. “No.” I argued. Just last week I ordered..”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. You’re right. Happy?” I laughed, it felt.. foreign.
“Yes.”
“That’s good, but I’m not getting chocolate chip pancakes today.”
He smiled that cocky smile that both aggravated and enchanted me, “Wanna bet?”
“Sure.” I surprised him with the strength behind my voice.
“I doubt that,” he said, his smile growing wider.
“Oh, okay. And what makes you so sure?”
His green eyes flashed with haughty arrogance that I knew was just for show.
“Well, because my dear, I am always right.”
I snorted. “Did you mix up right and wrong again?”
He rolled his eyes, I looked back down at the menu.
“I’m not always wrong, Delilah.”
“Mh-hmm.”
His tone turned serious. “I wasn’t wrong about you.”
I looked up then, meeting his eyes.
He continued. “I wasn’t wrong about loving you, I wasn’t wrong for asking you to leave with me. I wasn’t wrong about trusting you to take this step with me.”
I looked away. “We didn’t have a choice. You said that yourself.”
“Maybe not,” he said, “but even if we had, well I’d like to think this still would have been it.”
A small, quiet snort escaped me. “What? Leaving everything behind to travel a couple thousand miles to a place I’ve never been? Where I’ll know no one, where my family won’t -” I stopped myself then, I wasn’t doing this again.
“Delilah.” He said, his voice low and quiet. “Delilah look at me.”
I did, it was almost as if I didn’t have a choice.
“You know I don’t want this any more then you do. You know I didn’t want to drag you away from the only place you’ve ever known. I didn’t want this.” He paused. “The only good thing that came out of this is that we’ll stay together. That our family won’t be torn apart before it can even begin.” He reached for my hand, but I withdrew it to my side, and I looked away again.
“Delilah. I’m sorry.”
I thought for a moment, and then I shook my head. “No. Don’t be. I know you don’t want this. I know.. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”
He sighed. “I love you Delilah.”
I nodded.

In truth, I knew this wasn’t what he wanted. I mean, who would want this? He had his whole life ahead of him and then I came around. Like a plague I stopped him dead in his tracks, and took his life away with one mistake. I took his freedom. His youth. This was the time for him to make mistakes, not be stuck with one.
The waitress came back then, setting the drinks on the table.
“What can I get you guys?”
Luke ordered first, something covered in gravy.
I looked at the waitress, she was older, but not in a bad way. Her brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, a pen tucked behind her ear. Her face was wrinkled with laugh lines in the best way. Her hazel eyes were warm. I wondered what her life was like. If she had kids, if she had grandkids. Why she worked here, in this tiny little diner. If she liked it.
“Delilah?”
I snapped back from my thoughts. “Oh, um.. Chocolate chip pancakes,” I said. “And.. hashbrowns.”
She smiled. “My mother always used to tell me the best kind of people ordered breakfast for dinner.” A laugh. “She said spontaneity was what kept a relationship together. I’ll go get that put in for you.” And just like that she was gone.

Luke gave me a look over the table, an eyebrow raised with an “I told you so” expression.
I shook my head. Right now those heart-attack chocolatey pancakes were the only consistent thing I had in my life. It was better then nothing.