Crossed

CHAPTER 48 CASSIA

The rain turns lighter, turns to snow. And I have a sense that we have not yet arrived, that we are still reaching. For each other. For who we are meant to be. I look at him, knowing that I will never see everything, understanding that now, and I make the choice again.

“It’s hard to cross over,” I tell him, my voice breaking.

“Cross over where?” he asks.

“To who I need to be,” I tell him.

And then we both move.

We have both been wrong; we will both try to make things right. That is all we can do.

Ky leans in to kiss me, but his hands stay down at his sides.

“Why won’t you hold me?” I ask, drawing back a little.

He laughs a little, holds out his hands as if in explanation. They are covered in dirt and paint and blood.

I pull his hand to mine, put my palm against his. I can feel the grit of sand, the slick of paint, and the cuts and scrapes that speak of his own journey.

“It will all come clean,” I tell him.