The Longest Ride

saying that you could be making a mistake. And that if you’re not careful, you could end up getting hurt.”

“I’m not making a mistake,” Sophia snapped, zipping up the bag. “And I’m not going to get hurt. I like spending time with Luke.”

“I know.” Marcia softened, patting the bed beside her. “Sit down with me,” she pleaded. “Please?”

Sophia debated before crossing the room and taking a seat on the bed. Marcia faced her.

“I get that you like him,” she said. “I really do. And I’m glad you’re happy again. But where do you see this going? I mean, if it were me, I’d be happy to hang out and have fun, just see where it goes and live for the day. But I’d never let myself think for one minute that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with the guy.”

“I’m not thinking that either,” Sophia interjected.

Marcia picked at her sweater. “Are you sure? Because that’s not the impression I get.” She paused, her expression almost sad. “You shouldn’t have fallen in love with him. And every time you’re with him, you’re only making it worse for yourself.”

Sophia flushed. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re not thinking clearly,” Marcia answered. “If you were, you’d be thinking about the fact that you’re a senior in college – an art history major from New Jersey, for God’s sake – while Luke rides bulls and lives on a ranch in rural North Carolina. You’d be wondering what was going to happen in six months, once you graduate.” She stopped, forcing Sophia to concentrate on what she was really saying. “Can you imagine living on a ranch for the next fifty years? Riding horses, herding cows, and cleaning out stalls for the rest of your life?”

She shook her head. “No —”

“Oh,” Marcia said, cutting her off. “Then maybe you see Luke living in New York City while you work at a museum? Maybe you imagine the two of you spending every Sunday morning at the latest brunch hot spots, sipping cappuccinos and reading the New York Times ? Is that how you picture your future together?”

When Sophia didn’t answer, Marcia reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I know how much you care about him,” she went on. “But your lives aren’t just on different tracks, they’re on different continents. And that means you’re going to have to watch your heart from here on, because if you don’t, it’s going to end up breaking into all sorts of pieces.”
     

     
    “You’ve been quiet tonight,” Luke said between sips of hot cocoa. Sophia held her hands around her cup, staring out from their spot on the couch at the snow flurries beyond the window, the second snow of the season, though this one wasn’t likely to stick. As usual, Luke had the fireplace going, but she couldn’t shake the chill she felt.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just tired.”

She could feel his attention, which tonight for some reason left her strangely unsettled.

“Do you know what I think?” he asked. “I think Marcia said something to you and it made you upset.”

Sophia didn’t answer right away. “Why would you say that?” she asked, her voice weaker than what she’d expected.

He shrugged. “When I called you to tell you that I was on my way, I could barely get you off the phone. By the time I got to the house, you’d gone silent. And I noticed the way you and Marcia kept glancing at each other. It was like the two of you had just shared some kind of confession, and neither of you was happy about it.”

The warmth from the cup radiated into her hands. “You’re very perceptive for a guy who can go a whole day without talking,” she said, peering up at him.

“That’s why I’m perceptive.”

His answer reminded her of the reasons they’d become so close so fast. But whether that was such a good idea wasn’t quite so clear anymore.

“You’re thinking again,” he chided. “And it’s beginning to make me nervous.”

Despite the tension, she laughed.

“Where do you think all this is going?” she suddenly asked, echoing Marcia’s earlier question.

“Between us, you mean?”

“I’m going to be graduating in the spring. Just a few months from now. What’s going to happen then? What happens when I move back home? Or get a job somewhere?”

He leaned forward, putting his cup on the coffee table before slowly turning to face her again. “I don’t know,” he said.

“You don’t know?”

His face was unreadable.