“It felt like you really liked me.”
“Because I do, Moon.”
“Moon, not brat?”
“Not for this.” I touched our noses together, rubbing them. “Not when I’m talking about how much I like you. Because I do. I do like you, and I want to do this again. And again. And again.” I pressed a kiss against his lips. A quick one, so as not to irritate the skin there too much.
He held my cheek again, looking straight into my eyes. “I’m not just some box to check off?”
“Fuck no.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” And I meant that with my entire fucking heart.
The final chamber had officially opened, carving itself with Moon’s name, right next to all the empty spots, waiting for the rest of the Miller family. After years of thinking I wouldn’t find someone new to let in, I’d finally found him. I’d found the one I’d been waiting for.
God, I hoped he was the one. I hoped he was someone I could say I was in love with in the very near future. I was too old to have fleeting moments. I wanted permanent ones, and thinking that could be with Moon felt fucking perfect. It felt right.
Like I’d secretly been waiting for him all my life.
Chapter Fifteen
My first weekat my new job went okay, I guess. It wasn’t fulfilling; it was chaotic at best, and so far, nobody seemed very friendly. But a job was a job, and I used my first paycheck very wisely.
By wisely, I meant that I was finally able to buy all the starting supplies to make my first solo stained glass pieces. Usually, after a big purchase like that, I’d feel some sort of dopamine rush. A feeling of self-satisfaction and excitement for what was to come. But even after getting the confirmation number and figuring out the best ventilated place to do the stained glass, I felt almost nothing. No excitement. No real feeling of accomplishment.
The air had started to turn cold, tearing leaves of all different colors down from their homes on the tree branches. With thecold came a sweltering, stiff, and creaky ache, right where my heart was meant to be. The metal cage surrounding it had frozen over, the punishing imprisonment somehow worse than it had been before.
When I was searching for glass, I could hardly tell any of the colors apart. They all looked red to me. Deep, dark, crimson, waiting to be shattered and splattered all across the walls I lived in. I’d bought at least four different reds, and I wasn’t sure how many other colors. Enough to make a full color wheel, at least.
I wished I could be normal. I wished I could just get over it. I wished I could say everything was fine and mean it. But to do that, I’d have to talk to people, and talking to people truly freaked me the fuck out. Having someone know how deep my weakness went? Yeah, pass.
Instead, as I peeled out of my business casual turtleneck and khakis, I texted Star, hoping for a genuine answer.
Me
How are classes going?
Star
Wouldn’t you like to know Mr. Overbearing?
Me
You’re still mad?
Star
You haven’t apologized yet
Me
I’m sorry.
Star
That’s the fakest shit I’ve ever heard from you, Moon
