But I wouldn’t put that blame on him. It wasn’t fair.
I didn’t understand his reason for leaving me, but I knew, looking at him, that to him it had been important. And I’d find out the truth. Eventually.
“One day soon, we’ll dance on the sand,” he whispered, his eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears.
He wiped his nose and made a murmur of disgust. “I was such an idiot.”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Yoss,” I snapped.
Yoss glanced at me in surprise. “Excuse me?”
I glared at him. “You were never the kind of person to wallow in self-pity, so don’t start now.”
Yoss’s eyes narrowed. “A lot has changed in fifteen years, Imogen. You don’t know what kind of person I am anymore.”
“I know who you are, deep down. That never changes. No matter how much you try to cover it up with resentful bullshit.”
Yoss chuckled again and I hated the sound of his insincere laughter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I couldn’t take his self-condemnation anymore. He watched me as though he expected me to leave. Maybe he wanted me to. Perhaps it would have been easier on the both of us.
To leave whatever we used to be in the past.
But I wouldn’t.
I could never give up on Yoss as he so obviously had given up on himself.
I pulled out my laptop and set it down on the table, swinging it around so that it was in front of Yoss.
I found the file I was looking for and clicked. Familiar strains of music filled the room and Yoss glanced at me, his expression unreadable.
“What are you doing?” he asked roughly.
I sat back in my chair, getting comfortable. “You need to remember the guy that would never wallow. The guy who refused to let me wallow either. The one who snuck me into the old movie theater so we could watch this movie.”
The opening credits forFiddler on the Roofcame up on the screen.
“I’m not that guy anymore, Imi. You’re setting yourself up for disappointment,” he said quietly. So, so sadly.
“Do still know the lyrics to all the songs?” I asked, ignoring his statement.
Yoss shook his head, but finally he smiled.
“I’ll leave that up to you,” he answered
“Don’t you remember how bad my voice is? Are you sure you want to subject your eardrums to that?” I teased.
It felt good. To smile. To laugh.
Natural.
Like heartbeats and sunsets.
Happy endings and old movies.
This was what Yoss and I were made of.
It was more important than the darkness. Than the secrets.
