30 Day Image Prompt Competition - August

Day 20 Prompt 2 - The Highway

She watched the car screech off up the highway, smoke coming from the rear wheels as he gunned the engine. She should feel sad, she reasoned with herself, after all, it was her fiancé, or rather ex-fiancé who was racing away up the highway. She felt nothing, though. Nothing but relief it was all over.

She glanced down at her hands, seeing the white band where the solitaire diamond engagement ring had once sat upon her finger. He had insisted on having the ring back, so he could get a refund, he had claimed. She doubted that. She was certain that her ring would end up on another girl’s finger before it was returned to the jeweller.

A mocking smile tugged at her lips as she wondered which girl would be the suitable recipient of his ring. He, who had made such a big issue of her being caught one time, just one time, with his brother had conveniently forgotten all the ‘innocent’ encounters she had discovered with not one but several different young women. She wondered whether those women were aware of each other. Probably not, she decided, remembering how cagey he would be whenever she queried where he had been.

A light breeze stirred the golden ringlets of her hair as it lay across her shoulders. She’d had the hair curled that morning, in readiness for her official engagement party tomorrow, to see what it would be like as a possible style for the wedding. She hadn’t liked it when the hairdresser had finished but had said nothing because he had liked it. In fact, he had raved over it, or was he raving over the hairdresser? She had been a pretty young blond, just his type.

Any young female was just his type. That was the problem which she had just discovered. He liked women, lots of women, any woman who showed interest in him, in fact. He was allowed to like them. It was a man thing, he said when she challenged him. However, if she looked at another guy then all hell broke loose with every kind of accusation hurled at her.

High above, the sun beat down upon her and she adjusted the wide brimmed hat to a more cooling position. She glanced down at her outfit and sighed. She wasn’t dressed for a long walk home. Right now, she should have been meeting and greeting some of his country and western friends and she had dressed accordingly in cowboy boots and a pink gingham skirt. The red checked shirt she had chosen to match her skirt was now lying across the rear seat of his car where she had tossed it before their argument had started. The blue camisole top was not adequate protection against the bright sun blazing above her. Hell, she hadn’t even put any sun cream on – not that she had been expecting this.

She shifted on the uncomfortable surface of the edge of the suitcase, wondering if she had packed any cream. She doubted it but it wasn’t something she could check since the keys for her case were in his car, with her other keys, cell phone and purse. The argument had been so sudden, and his eviction of her from the car so unexpected, that she hadn’t had chance to grab her purse from the back seat. He had flung her case out of the trunk whilst mouthing off various untrue accusations at her, leaving her too stunned to ask for her things off the seat.

No matter which way she looked up or down the highway, it was still the same empty ribbon of tarmac with no buildings or other vehicles to fill its emptiness. She was stranded here, in the middle of nowhere, with no means of communicating with anyone. From what she could remember, it was twenty miles to the hotel from their home and they had been travelling for about nine or ten so whichever way she looked, she had a long walk ahead of her.

As she contemplated her future, a car appeared on the road, racing towards her at such a speed it stirred the dust up off the highway. She watched it draw nearer, wondering if it was friend or foe and if she had a chance to get away. Not likely, she thought, looking down at the cowboy boots. The leather boots were not made for running in, or taking long walks in.

With a squeal of breaks, the car came to a halt just before her. She watched as the driver got out, her eyes, hidden behind the large sunglasses, feasted upon his lean, muscular build as he walked towards her.

“I thought I’d be too late,” he said, his country drawl sending shivers up her spine. “Lyssa said she saw you arguing in the car.”

“Arguing? More like him ranting and raving because he’d seen you holding me yesterday.” She shook her head, feeling the curls brush against her heated skin. “He got so mad at us both that he ordered me out of the car, with my case, and left me here. Minus my ring.” She waved her empty finger at him.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“My purse is still in the car, with my phone and my keys.”

He held out a callused hand to her, so different from the soft, smooth hands that had held hers after the ring had been placed upon her finger. “Come on, I’ll take you to the hotel so you can reclaim your things.”

She shook her head. There was no way she was going there and facing yet more abuse from him. She could get the purse another day, there was nothing of great importance in it, nothing that could not be replaced.

“Okay, then. I’ll take you home, if that’s what you want?”

She looked up at him, his face partly silhouetted by the sunlight. Two brothers, alike in some matters yet so different in others. One, a weak minded perfectionist who believed in one rule for himself and one rule for others. The other, a strong, quiet individual who only passed judgement when appraised with all the evidence. How could she have chosen the wrong brother? she wondered as she reached out for his hand. She had allowed herself to be swept away by the illusion of perfection without seeing the darkness that swirled beneath the surface.

“Home sounds nice,” she said, an impish smile on her features. “I could do with relaxing on a deck, watching foals frolic in the pastures.”

He stiffened at her words describing his home. He had never dared to believe that one day she would grace his deck with her presence without his brother at her side. For weeks he had steeled himself against the forthcoming wedding, telling himself that it was for the better even though it had torn him apart. Now she was free and openly admitting to him where she wanted to be. Life had just gotten perfect.

“Then allow my car to take you to your sanctuary,” he offered, sweeping up her suitcase before leading her to his car.

Seated in his car, watching the powerful engine eat up the miles of tarmac, she no longer saw an empty highway stretching before her. Life was a highway to travel upon. Sometimes empty and alone, leading to nowhere, other times bringing forth new opportunities, routes to travel and explore. She had gone from an empty road to one leading towards a new and exciting future and this time she was not afraid to travel upon it.