The wind brushes against my face, leaving everything behind—thoughts, feelings, sadness, even love. Just the night and the open road, stretching endlessly toward the moon, so enchanting and hypnotic. Happiness and freedom. I ease the throttle, and the bike absorbs the bumps on the rugged ground. I kill the engine.

  Silence? No, not quite. A faint whisper of waves. How beautiful the lake looks under the moonlight!

  I light a small fire and gaze at the night sky, scattered with infinite stars. So many, so breathtaking. I was happy once. Here. We return to the places that made us happy. And now, it's just memories. But even so, it's something.

  A motor's hum interrupts the stillness. What’s it doing here? In a place only two people know about?

  The sound grows closer. A headlight cuts through the dark. My breath catches. Don’t believe it—it can’t be! The bike rolls up to me. Shielding my eyes from the glaring light, I see a silhouette—a woman’s figure—emerging from the glow.

  “Hey!”

  Her voice—so familiar. “Didn't recognize me, or didn’t expect me?” She steps closer and sits across from me, by the fire. Her reddish hair shimmers in the flickering light. “Why are you so quiet?”

  I couldn’t speak. Sometimes life surprises you with impossibilities, and this was one of those moments. “Are you here chasing lost happiness?” she stirs the fire with a stick. “I come here often.” “Are you angry with me?” My voice carried guilt, longing, and joy all at once. “You have no idea,” she smirked. “But why now, of all times?” “You think you can run away from someone who loves you—and who you love?” she said, almost matter-of-factly. “I’m just an ordinary woman, not a goddess…”

  Her words made me shiver.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “I feel it, I know it—I see everything you’re going through. I know how much it hurts.” “You came to mock my foolishness?” “Don’t project your own thoughts onto me. I came because you need me.” “And you forgave me—for leaving you?” “Oh, no! Don’t flatter yourself. Foolish, yes. But na?ve? No.” “So… what now?” “Now, you’ll make things right… starting now.”

  She walked up to me and pushed me hard. I landed on the ground. “Are you ready?” “Yes.”

  She slipped off her leather jacket and fell into my arms. The night, the moon, the whispers of waves, the glow of the fire in her eyes. The cool night air, the warmth of her breath. And the stars—so many stars they took your breath away.

  

  Sunlight breaks through, waking me. I smell the faint remnants of the fire—and yes, that unmistakable aroma of coffee. “Coffee’s ready! Wake up, sleepyhead!”

  “You’re full of surprises. Where from?”

  “Oh, you know—places,” she teases, handing me a cup. “And of course, a cigarette?” “Wouldn’t say no.” “Well, just this once,” she says, handing me the pack.

  This was one of those rare moments where you could just savor coffee, a cigarette, and the presence of someone who loves you.

  “Let’s go,” she says calmly. “To nowhere, like always.” “Only I can go nowhere,” she smirks.

  “So, dreamer, where are we all returning to?” “Home?” “Bingo!”

  “And where’s your home?” “I don’t have a home… We have a home.”

  The road stretches ahead. We pass through small towns and barren landscapes. We stop at a café.

  “Your home is far, isn’t it?” “Our home…”

  I can sense we’re getting close. I feel it in her nerves. And there it is—a beautiful place, so much greenery, trees, and a house tucked away on a hill.

  “This is our home. Not a palace, not a mansion, not a motel room. Our home,” her voice filled with warmth and pride.

  I notice the fence leaning and the gate creaking as I open it. “This place missed you. A home without its owner is an orphan.”

  From the house, an elderly woman steps out, holding the hand of a little girl, maybe eight years old.

  “Thank you,” the woman says. “We’ll take it from here.”

  She walks off hastily. “Meet her,” she says nervously. “Daughter!” The girl rushes to her side, hugging her tightly.

  “This is your daughter.”

  “Daughter,” she says tenderly. “This is your father.”

  “I know,” the girl replies.

  

  Monologues of the Characters

  Her Monologue

  

  Men love to dream. And you have to put up with it. Though I wouldn't say it's enjoyable. But they always return home...

  His Monologue

  

  I have nothing to say.

  The Daughter's Monologue

  

  I’ve waited for him for so long. Mom has told me so much about him!