This was the opposite. The flight attendant unclasped a wood table in front of us, and suddenly, a charcuterie board, chips, guacamole, and a fruit plate was in front of me. I widened my eyes on Asher as he offered me a chocolate-covered strawberry with his hand outstretched to my mouth. I took a bite without blinking.
“How does one go back from all this?” I asked around a mouthful.
“The goal is not to.”
“So, keep making enough smart decisions so that dropping twenty-K on a two-hour flight is just another casual Thursday?”
He took my hand and pulled it toward his mouth, biting my knuckle playfully.
“It’s cute that you think this flight is twenty-K.”
I nearly choked on the thought of this costing as much as my yearly rent.
“I don’t want to know,” I said.
“You really don’t.”
The golden sun swooped in through the windows, and I looked past Asher, leaning forward to watch the sun set along the purple sky and the wing. He put his hand on my cheek, and tilted my face to his, staring at me. His eyes seemed to swallow up the color of the setting sun, and it was as if I could look at him and see a world full of golden light—the kind of world you could only dream of. He grinned and leaned forward to kiss me. The warmth of his mouth on mine melted the sweet chocolate against both of our gums.
I pulled back and stood up.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
I grabbed his hand and tugged him away from his seat.
“We are going to induct me into the Mile High Club.”
He shook his head at me with a grin as I pulled him toward the bathroom door.
“God, you’re romantic,” he said with a smirk.
A couple hours later, Asher pulled a hat down over his eyeline and ushered me past a dark alleyway behind the BeltLine, which reminded me a lot of the Highline. Asher had my guitar slung around his back, for some reason he’d said I “had to” bring it. I could see a walkable stretch of bars and restaurants come into view, just as a tall older gentleman met us at a side door in the alley and led us through a modern, neon-lit lobby.
“Welcome to Illuminarium,” Asher said.
We entered a giant room with not one right angle. The white walls were curved, and there was a vast amount of state-of-the-art projectors beaming down on us from the ceiling. Asher and the man exchanged pleasantries, then the man left. Suddenly, Asher and I were alone in a room meant for a couple hundred people. The lights dimmed, and my heart pounded against the bleak darkness. I felt Asher’s elbow brush against mine as the projectors above lit up. I spun in a circle, seeing video footage of outer space towering around me. It was as if someone had pressed play on a trip to the moon, inside my brain.
“Look down,” Asher said, smiling.
I glanced down to my sneakers, which were now walking on the rocky surface of the moon. I dared to take one step forward, and my heart fluttered, seeing that I was kicking up moondust as I walked. I could feel a rumble against my heels—optics coming from the floor. It was virtual reality without the glasses.
“Welcome to space,” Asher said, with arms outstretched as the galaxy shifted in front of us.
I took in the atmosphere around me, as if I were really there.
“What is this place?”
“I thought you’d have an easier time writing about a woman lost in the Milky Way if I could take you there.”
I sat down on a seat in the middle of the room, letting my ears take in an empty but loud sound—what it was like to float through the stars. I could feel it in my chest. Asher handed me my guitar.
“Play it for me,” he said.
“‘Bonnie and Clyde’？” I asked, referring to the song that had given me the most trouble, the song that would follow the All Is Lost moment of the film. The lyrics were supposed to be heartbreaking but hopeful. Instead, they were clawing for the shore in moments of anger.
I studied Saturn, her rings floating in front of me, and I kept my eyes on her lonely planet with my fingers on the G chord.
I grew up looking down
Held my hands against my ears, silencing siren sounds I flew out the screaming back door every time
Hugged my shoulders until I found your street
Said I was just walking by
But you knew to hold me till I cried
Now I watch you throw hope to the wolves
You shrug as they rip the dream of us apart
Why should our finale have a heart
Go ahead, burn me at the stake
Say words better left unsaid
Until the ashes of our maybes become my bed
I left the sirens behind
Ran past your street without stopping for our goodbye Didn’t slow down until my skin was bathed in bright hues Sandy shores at my feet, feeling golden and blue
I didn’t miss running
I missed having someone to run to
Now I watch you throw hope to the wolves You shrug as they rip the dream of us apart
Why should our finale have a heart
Go ahead, burn me at the stake
Say words better left unsaid
Until the ashes of our maybes become my bed
You blew through my door like I was your partner in crime The Bonnie to your Clyde
I told you I was taking flight
Your lips didn’t seem to mind
But you weren’t the type to let me drive
Don’t save the passenger seat for Clyde
To the moon and back, what a lie
You were never the wind beneath me
You were never my alibi
You were just someone to run to
I built my own wings when I was five
Watch me leave the ashes of our maybes behind
I finished the song and set my eyes on Asher. A million stars floated behind the smirk on his face.
“So, this is supposed to be the moment in the movie where she regrets the way they left things—not where she’s livid at him for letting her go,” he said.
“But she should be livid. She started a new life, he had the balls to show up at her door and sleep with her, and then he decided that he couldn’t be a part of her journey.”
“Sure, but it’s circumstance. Neither are really at fault here, and you’re putting all the blame on his shoulders. And if he’s not likeable, we won’t root for them.”
I scrunched up my face. Asher exhaled and walked behind me, turning my shoulders to another wall. It was a jet-black sky, with the moon slowly coming into focus. He kept his hands on my shoulders.
“Breathe in,” he said.
I inhaled. The room smelled like gunpowder, like moondust. Somehow, they had piped in outer space through the HVAC unit.
“Now, keep your eyes fixed ahead.”
I drew in the blurry moon as it came into focus, dead volcanoes and craters swirling into view. I felt the heat of Asher’s mouth on my ear as his chin rested on my neck, bringing the stars on the wall under my skin. He pointed to the moon, and I knew exactly what would follow. He was going to paint a picture for me. He’d done it so many times before, staring up at the sky with me during those Connecticut summers, making up stories about wild people who lived in the clouds.
“Okay, you’re Yael. Now, the only person who understands you? He can’t join you up here. It’s lonely, dark, new, and getting here was the most important moment of your life—which is complicated, because you can’t enjoy it the way you want to. Yes, he threw hope to the wolves, but maybe you did, too. You chose this life. You could have stayed with two feet planted on earth and had a nice life with that guy, but this is the first time in your existence where you’ve been the wind beneath your own wings, right? And we can keep some of the early verses, but let’s be fair here, and let’s hold on to hope for these two crazy kids. Sometimes circumstances change. Sometimes people make big sacrifices. And sometimes”—he tugged me closer to his chest, the warmth of his heart fluttering against my back—“sometimes, lovers follow through with the promises they made,” he whispered into my ear.