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“And we ended up talking.” She waggles her eyebrows. “As friends.” Her shoulders droop in disappointment. “For a year.” “What! A year?”
But I’m in a good mood, and I wanted to. I’m internally shocked I had a great time tonight. I even ate chicken wings in that questionable establishment. They might be the death of me, but I must admit they tasted pretty good.
I should tell her she’s so much more. The thing that got me out of bed most mornings. My bright spot. My sunshine.
You don’t look at me like I’m tragic. You look at me like we’re inevitable.”
We are an us, right?” When she says us, she peeks up at me from under thick lashes, shyly. I blink at her, scanning her face for some sign that she might be joking. Because in what universe does this woman want me to be an us with her. I literally shake my head and count my lucky fucking stars. And then I kiss her hard, hold her to me tight, and show her how badly I want to be an us. “We are definitely an us.”
“I know you see yourself as dark. But you aren’t. You’re swirling color, all different shades, a mosaic. You’re complicated and beautiful. And I’m not quitting on you, so you better not quit on me.”
She’s like sunshine on my face. Warm and bright. I feel like I’ve been living in the shade, in a dark corner, and rather than dragging me kicking and screaming out of it—like so many people have tried to—she’s just shifted over a little bit to share her light.”
“You fell in love with that woman’s drive. Her passion. Her spark for life. Her light. What if, rather than throwing that all away, you became her suncatcher? Take that light and amplify it in every way you can. Bask in it. How wondrous to have found it!” She claps her hands excitedly. “But light is tricky. It slips through your fingers. It’s fleeting. It comes and goes. We never get to possess it; you can’t hold it in your hand. We just get to enjoy it. And if you can figure out a way to just let go and enjoy it, well, Cole, you’ll be one of the lucky ones.”
“And what if something happens to her?” “But what if nothing happens to her, and you spend the rest of your life missing out on all that light?”
“You know I pay someone to help me with these types of revelations.” She doesn’t miss a beat. “Okay. Cash or check is fine.” I chuckle. I can’t help it. I hate to admit it, but Billie is funny.
