The place is called Lover’s Leap. I’ve avoided thinking about it until I saw the blue car for the third day in a row. It’s parked across from my apartment—my dad’s apartment. He owns the place; I stay rent-free in exchange for handyman work.

I saw it three days ago; the rich Chilean blue caught my eye through the basement window. Is that a shade? It should be if it isn’t. It’s identical to the glaciers in southern Chile. A tenant has an Otherworldly Places calendar in her kitchen and, though I was only there once, the rich blues and sharp whites of the ice sheet stuck with me. Maybe it’s the weight of summer; everything sticks to you in the summer.

Someone wrote JUST MARRIED across the rear window in a delicate font. That’s why I noticed the car in the beginning—that and the blue. It was just passing glances between jobs at first, but yesterday, I spent prolonged periods staring out the window. Today, I needed to get closer.

I try the handles, but they’re locked. Figures. What are newlyweds doing here? The trailhead catches my eye. LOVER’S LEAP. Etched in yellow atop brown wood, the sign haunts the path before me. I wipe sweat from my face, staining my sleeve. Walking into the forest offers no relief from the muggy heat. The trees are an odd mix of new-growth giants and twisted saplings.

This path leads in one direction—to the Leap. I suppose they could have taken the other way, across the road towards, well, whatever’s there. That wouldn’t make sense; why go anywhere but the Leap, the ultimate test of genuine affection? They’re on this side of the road, after all. The farther I go, the more I feel like a witness to a crime yet to be revealed.

I haven’t been here in half a year. It was a bright winter day then. Funny how much today’s forest has changed from the one I remember with Silvia. We had been together for three months. I met her the day I took my dad’s offer and moved back home. She’d ambushed me in the parking lot as I was unloading boxes onto the dolly.

“I love your shirt! I have to have it.” She was a short firecracker of a girl who looked at me with such attentive interest, reducing me to my simplest self. Her stare betrayed her; she wanted my shirt on her bedroom floor.

“Oh, thank you,” I stammered. “I love you, too—I mean, your shirt! It’s good.” I wanted to die at that moment. In my defense, I had driven fourteen hours across four states from St. Louis to Philadelphia to work for my dad after losing my best friend, my job, my apartment, and my girlfriend of six years—not in that exact order. Then, this girl, with only one look, made me want to start over. I’ll never forget it.

“No, no,” she laughed it off with a wave. “You’re not the first.”

My face burned. She sauntered beside me, clicking open the sea-green sedan parked next to my rent-a-van. Throwing her purse in the back seat, she turned her head.

“You could be the last, though. Just an offer.” She smiled and then drove away. That broke me.

The following week, her faucet conveniently started dripping, and the rest was history. My past became a faint dream as soon as our hearts touched. One morning, while lying in my bed, painted by the late winter sun, she said, “I wanna show you Lover’s Leap.”

I nodded, but didn’t move.

“Right now!” Silvia jumped up, hitting my chest with a pillow.

“Alright, alright!” I said, pulling myself up and grabbing pants. “I’ve gotta work on the drywall in 15E by noon, though, one at the latest.”

“No worries, it’s down the road. We’ll be back in time.” She slipped into her pink coat with green trim. “If we come back at all.” With a wink, she left my apartment, and I scrambled to follow.

The trail feels more twisted than it did back then. It’s like I’m following the body of a great snake that will bite me as soon as I reach the end. Perhaps they haven’t parked that car there for three days after all. Maybe they leave and then come back the next day; that’s reasonable… Right? The trail turns upwards, and there are makeshift wooden steps that follow the ridgeline to the Leap.

“Who puts these steps in?” Silvia asked me. She didn’t want to know, but she abhorred silence and didn’t care if my answer was correct, as long as I answered.

“Beavers,” I said, stepping around the snowdrifts that had built up overnight.

“They couldn’t have done it alone.”

“No, you’re right.” I tapped my finger against my temple. “They had help from a local charity that employs wayward rodents. Keeps them off the streets.”

Silvia nodded, in full agreement with my answer.

What? There is a sign at the top of the steps. Well, more than that, it’s a second path that goes off to the left! The sign reads BLOSSOM TRAIL. That wasn’t here when me and Silvia came. What is the Blossom Trail? Why would anyone go on the Blossom Trail when Lover’s Leap is straight ahead? If dusk hadn’t already shifted into night, I’d be able to see the river below me. The wooden fence to my right acts as only a psychological barrier. A light nudge could knock the whole thing down, but it’s nice to have it beside me. Silvia called the fence a joke when she saw it, but kept her hand on the weathered rail for the rest of the climb.

“Why is it called ‘Lover’s Leap?’” I asked her. “Seems kind of dark.”

“Or romantic!” She stretched her hands out and embraced the sun. “Taking the plunge. Till death do us part! All of that.”

“C’mon, that’s nonsense.” I pushed my shoulder playfully into hers. Her hand gripped the wooden rail. “You don’t really believe in those things, do you?”

She lowered her eyes to the snowy ground. “Of course. I think it’s possible for some. A special few who win the lottery and ride off into the sunset arm in arm with their soulmate.”

“You believe in soulmates, then?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” I chuckled. “You think every person has a special someone who they are destined to find?”

“I think a kindred spirit exists for each of us, who we can live a perfect life beside. But I don’t think we’re destined to find them.”

“Why is that?”

Silvia returned my gaze. Her eyes had an odd wonder to them, “Because it’s a choice. And most don’t choose correctly.”

The Leap is around the bend. I don’t hear any voices. The nothingness of night leaves no distance between the river and me. The water gurgles as the river moans, swollen with summer rain. I stop and breathe, listening for any clues, but the night refuses to give up its secrets. Walking again, I creep over broken rocks worn down by decades of rain, tangled in stubborn roots. Lover’s Leap looks different in the dark. The rocks push past the cover of the trees, jutting out over the ravine like the bow of a ship. Beyond are city lights that blaze sleepless and strained against the horizon. Between the rocky edge and the city backdrop lies a dark void, out of which the river cries. Where’s the couple? I walk forward from under the trees. There must be stars above me, somewhere, but all I see is gray tinged in the yellow glow of the tireless city. I scan the rocks, but I’m alone.

“Wow, it’s incredible.” I put my arm around Silvia and pulled her closer before walking out towards the edge. Over the rocks, the forest beyond was stripped by winter and topped with snow. Further, the skyscrapers twinkled, their metal bodies and silver slopes formed artificial constellations. “This spot is awesome!”

“Shhh.” She lingered under the skeleton trees; her feet planted in a hundred other footprints. The river below moved sluggishly, the edges fringed in ice. Snowy tree branches stretched out from below the ledge, dripping in the morning light.

“I’d hate to fall in.” I whistled.

“Shut up.” Silvia’s voice cracked. Her eyes looked wet; was she crying?

“What’s up?” I moved back and put my arms around her.

“Be quiet,” she whispered. “Just hold me.”

I complied, wrapping my arms around the great puffs of her coat. The location’s power rendered me minuscule by comparison. I guess in that way, it was like love. This spot is so beautiful and peaceful; she probably wants me to be romantic and crap, I thought.

I let my head rest on hers. “Do you think you’ll find your soulmate?” I whispered in her ear.

“No.” She turned and walked back, snow pluming as she pushed stray branches aside

The leaves stick to my skin as I hold them back. Where was the couple? There is a water bottle tucked between the boulders. They must have been here! My heart is quickening, but I must look over the edge. I need to see. Am I ready, though? I don’t know. I’ve never been one for gore, but now I’m the only person who can save them, if there’s anything left to save. My legs buckle from the grizzly image my mind conceives. I crouch on my hands and knees; I don’t want to slip. The edge leers at me, shutting everything out. Its abruptness taunts me, but I can’t stop here. With drained hands clutching the rock, I look into the void.

Nothing?

That can’t be. I strain my eyes, seeing invisible shapes on the staggard rock outcrops that lead to the river. Did they vanish? Did they fall into the sunset, arm in arm, as Silvia imagined? I must return to their car and get inside. Perhaps I’ll find ID or registration papers. Descending the trail presents more hazards than climbing it.

“What do you mean, no?” Breathless, I ran to catch up.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? We just aren’t right for each other.”

“What?” I choked, my eyes stinging from the cold. “We’re over?” I blurted out.

Silvia pulled up her hood. “Yes. I’m sorry. It was a mistake to come.”

I dashed ahead and grabbed her hands. “What did I do? I just asked the soulmate question for fun! You can’t say it’s over and walk away.”

“It didn’t feel right.”

“What didn’t?”

“You and me, up there together. It wasn’t right.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re only proving my point.” Silvia continued down the trail, passing by as if we were strangers. I robotically followed.

“Then why’d you take me here?” I shouted louder than I meant to. She turned to me, her lips a thin line.

“To see if we were right. But we weren’t. It’s okay. It’s not the first time. Don’t feel bad about it.”

“Don’t feel bad about it?” I felt shattered, not bad. “I thought we had something.”

“Me too. But the Leap proves otherwise. Time to move on. I’d suggest you do the same.” She turned away once more and walked back towards Dad’s building, leaving me in the snowdrifts by the side of the road.

I’m in the same spot again and feel just as cold. My stomach turns as I catch my breath; maybe I was too quick on the way back down. A single streetlamp beats heavily on my eyes. Squinting, I look around, but the car is gone. What? Cars don’t vanish. I touched it; I know it was here. The empty street laughs at me as, from behind, the forest pulls sweat from my skin.

I wipe my face and blink twice, staring at the vacant spot left by the car. I should check the Leap again, just to be safe.

Editor: Shannon Hensley