Chasing After Me

by R. C. Martin

  I snuggle closer to him and he locks his arms around me. For the first time all day, I feel a hint of peace; like I’m exactly where I need to be with exactly who I need to be with. I even let my mind go so far as to say that maybe this very moment was orchestrated on my behalf.

  I believe in a God who is always good. Through my anger and my grief, He remains the same. He loves the same—yesterday, today, and forever. I won’t deny that He’s broken my heart in taking Sheamus; that He’s devastated Lance by taking the two people he loved most in the entire world. I won’t deny that it hurts to accept this reality, a reality that God allowed to happen. I won’t pretend that I understand the point of it all, and I won’t ask for Him to explain, knowing that it doesn’t matter. What is lost is lost, and it’ll hurt no matter what. Yet, at the very same time, I can’t overlook what He’s giving me right now.

  I think back to when I met Coder. Right after Timothy died. Right before Sheamus was admitted into the hospital. I don’t believe in coincidence. God is the author of all things—a truth that has been instilled in me since as early as I can remember. Maybe even before. At a time when I began to question what I want and who I’m destined to be, I met a man I never expected to meet. A man who has dared me to step out of my shell and to be who I really am. A man who has taught me what it means to be unapologetic about who I am—or who I want to be. A man who loves the woman he sees when he looks at me. A man who will drop everything to come hold me when I’m sad.

  Gazing up at him now, it seems glaringly obvious that God did this on purpose. He gave me Coder exactly when I needed him—right when I was at my breaking point. It’s as if He knew the loss of Sheamus would push me past my limit. I needed someone on the other side to catch me when I fell. And here I am. In the arms of the man who has caught me.

  “Take me away,” I whisper, my voice husky from sleep and hours of crying.

  “Where do you want to go, babe?”

  “I don’t care. Someplace far.”

  “How far?”

  “As far as you want to go. I don’t care. I just want to be with you. We can take the bike and just…ride.”

  He stares at me for a moment before a hint of a smile curls the corner of his mouth. “A ride for Sheamus.”

  My God, I love this man. With all that I am. With all that I have.

  “Yeah,” I manage to say through the knot in my throat. “A ride for Sheamus.”

  He dips his chin in agreement and then plants a solid kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, he lets me go completely and climbs out of bed. I prop myself up on my elbow, watching as he puts his boots on before I ask, “Where are you going?”

  “Have to rearrange some shit. Talk to Harvey. Stop by the house.” He pauses when my stomach growls and then looks back at me. “Grab you some food. I’ll be back in an hour or so, yeah?”

  “Okay, but, honey, what’s going on?”

  He doesn’t answer me until he’s finished securing his boots. Then he turns back to kiss me again. With his lips still close to mine, he says, “I’m taking you far away, Mack. Pack a bag, babe—but pack light. Whatever you can get in your backpack for a few days. I’ll be back.” He kisses me once more and then starts to make his exit.

  “Wait, where are we going?” I ask, clinging to the hint of excitement that mingles with my sorrow.

  “Don’t know exactly where, yet, but I will when I get back.”

  “Wait! Coder?” I call out, propping myself even higher.

  “Babe?” he inquires, stopping just outside my doorway.

  “I love you.”

  He stares at me for a moment, saying something without actually saying anything. I’m not sure what he means, but it feels profound in that way that only Coder can manage in his silence. Then he tells me, “I love you back.” And without another word, he’s gone.

  Coder wakes me before the sun the next morning. I’m surprised to find him dressed already, chewing on a bagel filled with cream cheese. He points to a small plate sitting on my nightstand beside my new picture frame, and I find my breakfast is waiting for me.

  “Want to be on the road in twenty. Think you can manage that?”

  I offer him a sleepy nod as I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. My eyes burn and I feel wrung out, but I intend to rally.

  “Hey,” Coder grunts, earning my attention.

  As soon as I tilt my head back, I’m greeted with a kiss. It’s a nice, warm, wet kiss that tastes like strawberry cream cheese, and I lean into it. When Coder pulls away from me, I feel a little more rejuvenated and awake; and as I think about the day ahead of us, I can’t help but smile.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning, honey.”

  “Move your ass, Mack,” he insists with a smirk and a wink.

  “’Kay.”

  I grab a bite of bagel and then get out of bed, hurrying through an abbreviated morning routine. I wash my face and then make quick work of my make-up before I pull my hair back into a long braid that I twist around itself at the base of my neck. I know the ride ahead of us will be a long one, and I think it best to keep my thick, curly locks contained.

  After Coder left late yesterday afternoon, I did as he instructed, packing a bag with enough necessities to last me a few days. It felt strange, picking out clothes to wear to an unknown destination, but it was also kind of fun. Coder’s spontaneity is just one of many things that I love about him, and it felt good to imagine what adventure might lay ahead of me. When he returned a couple of hours later, with pizza and beer, I was beside myself when he told me where we’d be going.

  Over the next two days, we’ll be riding to Avila Beach, California. He said that he had asked Harvey—a California native—a good place for us to go this time of year. Avila Beach was his suggestion. When I told Coder that this trip felt a bit extravagant on such short notice, his only reply was—My girl wants to go for a ride, I’m gonna take her on a fucking ride.

  I didn’t have it in me to argue.

  Truth be told, I love the idea of getting away with just the two of us, his bike, and a long stretch of road. Now, as I dress for the ride, I can’t wait for us to get going. Coder warned me that even though the weather is nice, I’ll get cold. Keeping that in mind, I wear some jeans and a long-sleeved, thermal t-shirt, shoving my wool socked feet into my black Chucks.

  When I’m finished with my bagel, I brush my teeth and take one last look in the mirror. As I stare into my own eyes, I tell myself that this is it—this is my chance to make up my mind. This journey that I’m about to take, it’s the perfect opportunity to search for the answers to all of the questions I’ve been asking myself this semester. When I get back and school starts up again, I have a decision to make—one that could alter my entire life.

  I’ve always been the girl with a future plan, and I don’t want that to change now. In this moment, I promise myself that I’ll figure it out. Over the next week, I’ll decide what it is that I really want. As my heart heals, I’ll determine if it can withstand the burden of my dream—or if perhaps I’m hanging onto something that was never actually meant to be.

  “Babe?”

  I pull in a deep breath, mentally shaking away my thoughts as I look out into the hallway. Coder is as gorgeous as always, dressed in jeans, a plain black t-shirt, his motorcycle boots, and his leather jacket. His thick, dark hair is its usual messy on top, and he’s got the slightest shadow of stubble on his face. Never would I have imagined that a guy like him could ever be mine, or that I’d be that girl, ready and willing to get on the back of his motorcycle to ride over a thousand miles across the country. But I like this version of myself. This is the girl I want to be. Daring, adventurous, and brave—wrapped around the man I love instead of hiding in some corner.

  “You ready?”

  “Yes. Just need my coat.”

  “And this,” he says softly, lifting up his slouchy, gray beanie. “My helmet covers my ears. Thought you’d like to wear it instead.”

&nb
sp; A small, sad smile plays at the corners of my mouth as he slides the hat over my hair. Before I can get sucked into my feelings, he winks at me and then jerks his head to the side, signaling that I need to get moving. I don’t hesitate, hurrying to my bed, where my coat and my backpack are waiting for me. Once I’ve donned both, double checking for my phone, I look up and see my man waiting for me at the door—his bag slug over his shoulder, our helmets in each of his hands.

  Holding out my helmet for me, he mutters, “Let’s ride, babe.”

  We ride until my butt cheeks go numb—and then we ride some more. Coder is relentless, driving for hours without even a thought of slowing down. I thought I knew how much he loved to ride, but that was before he got onto an open road with nothing but miles ahead of us. When we have to stop for gas and food, I can tell that he’s just itching to get back out there; and seeing the light in his eyes when he asks me if I’m ready to get going again, there’s no way that I could ever deny that, so I don’t.

  As we ride through Utah, the temperature drops the farther we go, and I tuck myself against him as tight as I possibly can. His body warmth sustains me okay, but my fingers are like icicles, even buried in his pockets. On the plus side, Utah is beautiful. When the sun starts to go down, we ride through a national forest, which is absolutely breathtaking, even with traces of winter still robbing it of color.

  Yet, regardless of all the lovely scenery, when night falls, I’m more than ready to tap out. Cedar City is the halfway point where we stop for the night, and I’m so grateful that Coder made some calls and booked us a room while we stopped for lunch earlier in the day. As soon as we’re in the room at our hotel, I shrug off my backpack and toss my helmet aside before I grab Coder and unzip his coat. He gives me a strange look, then his eyes go wide when I shove my hands up his shirt and press my cold fingers against his hot chest.

  “Fuck, Mack!”

  “I tried to tell you,” I say, crowding him even more. “I’m cold, honey.”

  “Shit,” he grunts, wrapping his arms around me. “Now I feel like a dick. We should have stopped when the sun went down.”

  “It’s okay,” I insist. “Tomorrow we’re going through Nevada before Cali, right? Then I’ll be complaining of being too hot.”

  “Yeah, well, right now I have to get you warm. Take your clothes off, babe,” he tells me, gently pulling my hands from out of his shirt.

  “Off?” I ask, shivering at the thought of losing my layers.

  “Trust me,”

  Groaning softly, I start to do as he says while he heads into the bathroom. When I hear him start the shower, I strip faster, wondering why I hadn’t thought of that. My clothes are in a pile on the floor by the time he comes out. Before he can tell me the water is ready, I’m racing by him, letting my hair down as I go.

  My toes tingle as soon as they come in contact with the hot water, but I ignore it, every muscle in my body appreciative of this shower. When I can feel my fingers again, I turn my back and arch my neck, letting the water spray over my hair. It feels amazing, and I close my eyes as I rinse off the grime from our long ride.

  I don’t hear Coder return to the bathroom; neither do I hear it as he slips by the shower curtain and into the tub. The second his hands find my waist, I jump with a gasp, my eyes flying open to find him staring down at me. He pulls me against his chest, and, no longer startled, I relax in his hold, my body growing even warmer as I feel all of him pressed against me.

  “I’m a junkie out on that road, Mack,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I got excited. We rode too hard too fast. You’re still a newbie. I should have known better.”

  “I’m fine, honey,” I assure him, sliding my hands up his chest and around his shoulders. “Just a little cold and sore. The cold part you took care of, and a night of sleep will help with the rest.”

  “I say fuck it. If we make it the rest of the way tomorrow, then we’ll be there tomorrow. If you only want to ride for a few hours, we’ll stop wherever you want. The beach will still be there whenever we get there.”

  “Coder,” I murmur, circling my arms around his neck as I lift myself up onto my tiptoes. “It wasn’t all bad. It was mostly good, actually.” I rest my cheek against his chest, thinking back on the hours I didn’t think at all, watching as the land on either side of us stood still while we zoomed by. “It was peaceful. It was nice, just riding.”

  “Yeah,” he mumbles, pressing his lips into my hair.

  “Just—maybe on the way back, we can get me gloves?”

  He coughs out a humorless laugh, giving my waist a squeeze as he replies, “Yeah, babe.”

  Tilting my head back so that I can see him, I whisper, “I’m okay. Really.”

  Silence settles between us as he looks down at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and just when I’m about to ask, my stomach growls loudly, making me blush.

  A smirk twitches the side of his mouth before he leans down and kisses me. He pulls away too soon and then announces, “I need to feed you.”

  “Yes, please. There’s a Mexican restaurant across the street that looked good.”

  “We’ll go there.”

  “Do you think we could…walk?”

  He laughs, holding me even closer as he dips his head once more. “I love you,” he breathes against my lips. I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t get the chance as his tongue delves inside of me. I moan because I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.

  It’s late when we arrive in Avila Beach. We ride the last nine hours all in one day, but Coder takes it easier, stopping more often to check on me. It’s sweet, and certainly allows me to enjoy the ride even more than I did the day before. The weather is gorgeous. After a cold morning, I’m quite comfortable for the rest of the day.

  By the time we get to our hotel, all I want to do was shower and sleep—so that’s exactly what we do. I sleep deeper than I’ve ever slept, the emotional and physical exhaustion from the last couple of days really hitting me hard. In the morning, Coder wakes before I do, but he doesn’t get up, meaning I wake in our favorite position—me totally draped all over him. After a few sweet, languorous morning kisses, we get up and get dressed before we start hunting for breakfast.

  Once we’ve been fed, we spend the rest of the day exploring. We start out on the bike, just riding around aimlessly, taking in the view and enjoying the nice, warm weather. When we start to get hungry, we head toward the shore to see what we can find. There’s a restaurant right off of the beach that looks pretty popular, so we decide to give it a try. The food is good, but it’s the atmosphere that I love, and the energy of so much life around us.

  Coder suggests we check out the shops next, and we walk hand in hand, wandering in and out of gift shops and specialty stores. He buys me fudge, which is delicious, and then we head to the beach so that I can feel the sand between my toes. It’s crowded, as anyone would expect around this time of year, but we find a spot to settle, sitting side by side as we gaze out at the ocean. I rest my head on Coder’s shoulder, and we enjoy each other’s silence for a long while.

  “Babe?” Coder speaks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  “You good?”

  I sigh, taking stock of my emotions. It’s been a really great day so far, but I can’t deny that I’m still struggling in my heart and in my mind. Finally, I simply answer, “I’m sad.”

  He doesn’t speak right away, but instead lifts his arm, causing me to raise my head as he drapes it around my shoulders and hugs me to his side. I lean into him, and he presses a kiss against my forehead, reminding me that I’m not alone. “I’m listening if you feel like talking,” he tells me.

  It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts, but when I have, I dump them out, wanting to let him in.

  “It’s times like these that I wonder if I’m too weak to be a doctor. Good bedside manner is one thing. Every doctor who has a passion for helping people, it’s impossible for them to be indifferent—but thi
s isn’t just compassion. This pain I feel, the pain I always feel when one of the kids dies, it’s different. It’s deeper.

  “Maybe it’s something doctors learn in time, or maybe it’s just something that happens when they experience just enough loss—they get some sort of professional handle over their emotions, enabling them to mourn silently but continue on with their job. I mean, they’ve got to. There are always more patients. And I don’t mean to say that they don’t care, it’s just that they are better at keeping it together; they’re better at creating boundaries between who they are and who their patient is to them. But I don’t know that I have it in me to do that.”

  I pause for a moment, thinking about the relationships I’ve had over the years with the kids I’ve read to. Sometimes, they’re so young, just the sound of my voice and my presence at their bedside causes us both to form an attachment. With some of the older kids, their ability to communicate more inevitably makes us closer. I learn their favorite things, and I bring them gifts because I can’t help myself. I’m beginning to understand that all of that makes it so much harder.

  “I have no boundaries when it comes to my relationships with the kids. I never have. And if I were to be their doctor, if I had to watch a child lose his or her life and then stifle that grief so that I could go about the rest of my day? I just…I’d be a horrible doctor, Coder.” I turn in his hold, wrapping my arms around his waist as my eyes fill with tears, my hopelessness suddenly overwhelming me. “The kind of doctor I wanted to be—I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to be in hospitals, not a general practitioner’s office. I thought I had it in me to take on the impossible, but I don’t know anymore. It hurts so much. Sheamus wasn’t even my patient—but if he was, I would have failed him, and that—that…”

  My voice catches as I try and stifle my cry. I then bury my face in Coder’s neck in an attempt to shield myself from view. Concentrating on taking deep breaths, I hope I don’t have a total meltdown right here at the beach. Coder reaches up and runs his hand over my hair before holding me where I am, his hand secured around the back of my neck. He doesn’t say anything, but waits for me to gather myself.