Pebbles: A Collection of Short Stories

Strangers

Strangers. In an instant, a person can become your life, but just as quickly, your person can become a stranger. It's the cruel truth of love and life. In one minute, you're distracted, thinking of grocery lists or some silly work problem. In the next moment, you're shattered.

"I think we should see other people." My phone glowed at me as though casting a spotlight on my shattering heart. Three years of my life, countless years of plans, all shattered with a single text. He didn't even have the compassion to do it in person.

My body shook beneath the weight of my phone. Rationally, I knew this impersonal device only weighed a few ounces, but with its message, it felt like hundreds of pounds in my hands.

There, in the middle of a darkening parking lot, I collapsed like a flower that had overgrown its roots. I folded into myself on the ground. I closed my eyes and took in a heavy breath. The salt air of the beach that rolled out mere feet from me mixed with a heavy thickness of an incoming summer storm as the hard concrete of the sidewalk nipped at my skin. The watercolor sky was stunning, but the darkness of the surging storm clouds rapidly infected the beauty as though my emotions were manifesting the corruption.

Strangers fluttered around me, casting condemning glances at the mess piled on the ground, so improper for such a public place.

I welcomed the first few drops of rain and the scurrying of people away from the beach and far from me. Solitude was what I deserved; I was unwanted and cast away. The soft patter of the shower soaked through my dress and saturated my hair. Nevertheless, I didn't budge. I let it wash over me, but it couldn't cleanse me of my grief.

I didn't question when the rain stopped, nor did I hear the patter of the drops on the umbrella suddenly shielding me.

"Are you hurt?" His voice came low and tender.

I lifted my eyes to his soft brown eyes, partially shielded by his wet, dark hair. It clung to his face as the rain fell on him. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know how to answer him.

"I'm going to just," he whispered as he sunk to the pavement in front of me, careful to keep the umbrella over me. "Is this okay?" He asked as he moved closer to me.

I slightly nodded as the warmth of his hand on my back soared through me. I needed his touch, his care. He folded himself closer to me, so we both fit beneath his umbrella. It was too late; we were both soaked to the bone.

He looked over me, checking for any sign of a wound. I watched his eyes inspect my knees and elbows before looking over my head. He carefully brushed my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. I wanted to return the favor, but my arm wouldn't lift high enough; it just hovered between us. His second hand settled on my knee.

"You're okay," he reassured, and something deep inside me believed him.

As though he could sense my relief, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on mine.

"You're okay," he murmured again as his warm breath flowed over my face.

Strangers. In an instant, your person can become a stranger, and another can become exactly what you need. It's the beautiful truth of love and life. In one minute, you're shattered, feeling broken and betrayed. In the next moment, you're warmed by the gentle care of a stranger becoming your everything.