Undying Love

PROLOGUE - The First Goodbye

  A whisper of gold danced across the sage, the first promise of sundown. The tufted heads of grass bowed in acceptance as the evening breeze stirred with a rustling yawn.
Cream yellow bled into the blue sky, fingers of orange stretching from the horizon, changing the color of the shadows cast by the setting sun.
Ryan Mackenzie stood outside his family estate, watching. The sunset was simple, yet arresting, and he wondered if the sky looked this beautiful everywhere else in the world. It was almost dark now, and he still had to stop by his best friend's house. With only four blocks between them, he decided to leave at once.
Just then, his phone buzzed. A text from Ben:
I'm taking another shift for Joe tonight. Will be home late. Please walk Judith home.
Ryan typed back: Sure thing. I'll come over to help out once I get her home.
Ben's reply came quickly: No. Stay with her. I'll be late, and I don't want her alone.
Ryan didn't answer this time. Instead, he pocketed the phone and made his way toward the new diner where Judith worked.

*******

The night air was cool against Judith Sylvester's skin as she pushed open the diner door. Her shift had been long, the kind that left grease in her hair and fatigue in her bones. Still, her heart skipped when she saw him.

Ryan Mackenzie leaned against the hood of a car, impossibly handsome, his tall frame outlined in the glow of the streetlamp. He wasn't supposed to be here; Ben usually picked her up Tuesdays through Fridays, while Ryan covered Mondays and Saturdays when Ben had night shifts. If Ryan was here on a Friday, it could only mean her brother had taken on extra hours again.

Judith clutched her jacket tighter. She was too young to feel so much, and yet she did. She has for a long time now. So long, she couldn't even remember a time when she did not feel this way about this one person.
"You didn't have to wait," she murmured as she stepped closer.

"Of course I did." His voice carried that familiar mix of warmth and authority that unsettled her. "Walking you home is the least I can do."

They walked side by side through quiet streets. Judith's shoes scuffed against the pavement; Ryan's stride was steady, protective. The silence pulsed with things unsaid, her admiration for him, his guilt for wanting something he knew he shouldn't.

When they finally got to her porch, she turned to him. The streetlight softened her features, making her look older, more certain than her years.
"You're not really thinking of taking that offer your uncle made, are you?" Judith asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. "I know things are rough with your dad... your entire family in fact, but... you have us."

"Judith, it's not that simple."

"I know." Her voice softened. "But ever since my parents died, you're the closest person Ben and I have to family. Please don't leave. I... I don't think I know how to be okay without you."
The last words slipped out as a whisper, surprising them both.

Ryan's breath caught. He shouldn't. God, he shouldn't. The way she looked at him — hopeful, innocent, daring — cracked something inside him.

For one reckless second, he almost closed the distance between them.

Almost.

His hand lifted, hovering near her cheek, before he forced it back to his side. The movement alone felt dangerous. She was too young. Ben trusted him. He had no right to blur lines that were never meant to be crossed.

"Ryan..." she whispered, mistaking his silence for hesitation of another kind.

That single word nearly undid him.

He stepped back instead.

"I'm sorry," he said roughly.

Her brows knitted together. "For what?"

"For forgetting myself."

The space between them thickened with everything neither of them dared say aloud.

She felt it too — that pull, that quiet understanding — and it emboldened her. "I don't want to know what life without you is like," she admitted again, softer this time.

His jaw tightened.

"The more reason why I should go."

The words startled her.

"Staying here," he continued carefully, "It's unhealthy. Not just for me, but the people I care about as well. They deserve better than me wanting things I shouldn't. They deserve a future that isn't complicated by my mistakes."

Judith didn't fully understand, but she felt the weight of it.

"Go inside," he said gently. "Lock the doors and get some rest."

"You won't wait until Ben gets back?"

"Not tonight. I'll just go to him instead."

She searched his face one last time, hoping he would change his mind, hoping he would choose her instead of distance. "Promise me we'll discuss this again before you make your decision."

He didn't.

Reluctantly, she walked inside. The door closed between them with a quiet finality. Ryan waited until he heard the click of the lock before turning away.

Tonight had shown him exactly how close he was to crossing a line he could never uncross.

He would accept his uncle's offer. Move to the UK. Distance wasn't escape, it was protection. For her. For Ben. For whatever fragile goodness he still had left.

But as he walked into the dark, he knew one truth he couldn't outrun:

Leaving didn't mean forgetting.

Inside, Judith showered and slipped into bed, her heart restless. She replayed the way he had looked at her, like something precious and forbidden all at once. She knew his distance wasn't indifference. It was fear. Fear of their age difference. Fear of her brother. Fear of what people would say.

She wasn't afraid.

They could wait.

In a couple of years, everything would be different. No one could object then.

Tomorrow, she would tell him everything.

She drifted to sleep with her heart full of hope, never knowing she'd never get the chance.