The Countdown

The wheels to Danny's Jeep slow to a stop as the light in front of us turns from yellow to red. We had pulled up to a red light many times in our three years of dating, but it's typically gone a little different.

It started on our first date. We were leaving the carnival and while he was driving me home I was looking out the window quietly praying he'll kiss me tonight. When he stopped at a red light, I decided not to wait for him and instead just quickly reached across the dashboard and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

I'll never forget the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me and smiled after I did it. It was such a beautiful memory in our relationship and the moment we both had agreed for years was when we knew how we'd felt about each other.

From that moment on, every single time we've stopped at a red light whoever was driving would lean over and give the other one a kiss on the cheek. The tradition was cute and simple, but always put a smile on our faces.

About a year ago, we had one of our biggest fights yet over dinner and weren't talking as we drove home. Then somehow we hit every single red light in the city and he must've kissed me at least ten times. By the time we got home, we were laughing and had completely forgotten what we were mad about.

This little tradition hasn't always ended our arguments, but it has always been somewhat of a reminder that no matter what’s happening we still love each other.

Tonight feels different though. We'd been fighting for a few days, but I keep thinking we'll make it through and be okay. Now we sit in silence at this red light, both looking out our respective windows and no one is making the move to kiss. I watch a car pull up and stop next to us as I wonder if he will kiss me, but it doesn't happen.

Is this the fight that will put an end to our relationship? I sure hope not. I always thought our love was strong enough to push through any argument, but it's proving to be harder and harder to do as the years go on.

About a week ago, Danny accepted a promotion at his job that would require him to stay where we currently are living in Philadelphia. My contract at my job is up in a few weeks and I am expected to be transferred to our Austin office.

We've been talking about my transfer for months and I thought we were both in agreement that our plan was to make the move together. We even went as far as to look at condos to buy together, so to say I was completely blindsided by him accepting his own promotion is an understatement.

This has been causing daily blow-ups between the two of us as I'm not understanding why he's backing out on our plans and he's not understanding why I can't just stay. It feels like a struggle over whose career is more important and neither one of us are ready to back down.

We couldn't have been sitting there for more than thirty seconds, but it feels like hours have passed since the car has stopped. I shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat and look over to at the man I once thought I would spend my life with.

Both his hair and beard are longer now than they were on that first drive together. His black curls now falling just above his eyebrows move slightly as he turns his face away from me to look out his window again. His hazel eyes once soft and loving are now hard and distant, focusing on something far away from the car.

His bearded cheek looks so inviting like it's begging me to lean in and kiss it but I fight the urge. I'm not ready yet to let this go. He's known my dream for years was to move to Austin. My family lives there and we were going to live closer to them.

My love for him is so strong, but is it enough? I've never had that thought before tonight, but now I can't shake the feeling it might not be. We are both very career-oriented and I truly don't see either of us giving up our opportunities.

His left hand is sitting on the steering wheel and his right hand is on his thigh. I slowly reach over and try to take it in mine, but he jerks away and places it next to the other on top of the wheel.

The movement sends pain through my heart as I shift in my seat again, resting my head against my window. I watch the crosswalk count down from ten until it won't be safe to walk across anymore.

Ten seconds. This cute little habit we once had seems to be more integral to our relationship than I think either of us noticed.

Nine seconds. Do I try again to make a move? Should I just suck it up and kiss him?

Eight seconds. I really want to make the move, but it feels like at this point whoever does will be ending the fight that's stretched on for days now.

Seven seconds. I want to be mad that he won't kiss me, but I'm not ready for it either.

Six seconds. I look over at him again, looking for any sign that we are going to make it through this.

Five seconds. He's still looking out the window, avoiding my gaze. Both of his hands are still on the steering wheel where I can't reach them.

Four seconds. The car seems to get colder and colder with every second that passes.

Three seconds. This might actually be the end of our relationship. We might not get through this fight. The silent meal we are coming from might be one of the last we ever share together.

Two seconds. My heart shatters at this realization. It feels like something physical in my chest has broken and all the feelings that were once there are starting to painfully pour out of my body into the world. I try to grab them and hold on to these last few moments with Danny, but I know the only thing that can fix this right now is a set of soft lips pressed against my cheek.

One second. I shut my eyes, hoping it keeps the tears building up inside.

Zero. The countdown ends, the light turns green and my relationship has come to an end.