Leap

“Leap of faith,” he told himself.

“Jump in, the water’s great!” she said again.

He took a running leap and jumped off the pier, as the afternoon sun sparkled off the water.

He found time slowing down at moments like this. They’d met on a day like today. She in the water, and he taking that first jump. Well, several first jumps, if you counted their relationship, a crazy leap of faith if there ever was one.

Part of him was already bracing himself for the call that would come out of nowhere, over the phone, when she would tell him it was over.

He imagined how things might go. Hiding out in his apartment for weeks after she was gone, hitting the bottle again, finding himself revisiting places they’d gone together, like those romantic night visits to the rooftop.

One night he’d go up again in a drunken daze, hoping against hope to see her, stumble over the edge. One final crazy leap of faith. In his mind’s eye he could see the pavement rushing up toward him.

And then he was in the water, the sparkling lake all around him, hearing her laughter as she swam toward him.