Fisher’s hand left the handlebar for a few seconds to press against my leg, giving it a soft squeeze. My arms tightened around him. We rode and rode. My butt went numb. Eventually, he pulled off at a scenic stop. My legs were numb too as I hobbled off the bike and unfastened my helmet.

“If you’re enjoying the tour…” he took my helmet from me “…don’t forget to leave a Yelp review.”

I giggled. “Is this a side gig? And here I felt kind of special.” I inched closer to the guardrail and a canyon filled with trees for miles. The view … there were no words. “I bet this means nothing to you.”

“The view?” he asked.

Of course the view. What did he think I meant? Tossing him a quick sideways glance, I nodded. “Yeah, the view.”

“I think there are some things that are meant to provide a lifetime of awe. The mountains. The oceans. Rainbows. Shooting stars. First kisses.”

Ten years. There were ten years between us. And he admitted that fifty percent of everything that left his mouth was not to be trusted. First kisses … he was baiting me. I was surprised he didn’t say unicorns.

“I have jaded memories,” I said. “Not like my friends who vacationed every summer. Trips to Disney. Key West. The Grand Canyon. My big moments involved my parents fighting. My mom leaving our house in handcuffs. The day she was convicted. My dad didn’t want me there, but I begged him. I told him I would never forgive him if he didn’t let me go with him. She mouthed ‘I love you,’ as they took her away. I remember my dad telling me to let her go. He said she lost the privilege of being my mom because she chose the wrong path. He said she should have loved me more. And sometimes … I believed him. Then he died. Another memory taking up so much space in my head. So this…” I nodded to the view “…it’s a great picture to pin on top of the other pictures that don’t take my breath away.”

For several minutes, Fisher didn’t reply. I’m sure it all sounded crazy to him. It sounded crazy to me, yet I couldn’t roll my eyes and let it be someone else’s pathetic life.

“You deserve to have your breath taken away … every day.”

Those. Those ten words. They wrapped around my heart like sticky peanut butter and jelly fingers.

Pure.

Innocent.

Unforgettable.

Perfect.

“Well…” I kept my gaze on the feathery green canvas “…mission accomplished.”

“Want me to take a picture of you?” he asked, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

“Okay.” I bit my lower lip to hide my true level of giddiness.

“Say, ‘Sorry Rory.’”

I laughed. “Sorry Rory.”

He studied the screen of his phone. “Perfect. I’ll airdrop them to you when we get home.”