“At first, maybe. Years ago. But last night…” He looked at me then. “Last night, I wanted you to have what I promised.”
The room was very still.
“You remember saying it?”
“I never forgot.”
“When we’re big,” I whispered.
He closed his eyes.
“I thought if you lived, I’d find you someday and make one memory that wasn’t smoke.”
My anger cracked.
Not gone.
Just cracked.
Underneath it was something more dangerous.
Tenderness.
I hated it because it had nowhere safe to stand.
“You should have told me before,” I said.
“I know.”
“You let me dance with you without knowing.”
“I know.”
“You made me feel…” My voice failed.
Beautiful.
Normal.
Chosen.
I couldn’t say those words.
He heard them anyway.
His face crumpled.
“I’m sorry.”
I stepped closer.
“Don’t apologize for the dance.”
He looked up.
My scars burned under the station lights. For once, I did not turn my face away.
