Page 113 of Let the Light Shine Through

“You would’ve done our time together a disservice if you did.”

I roll my eyes, shoving him back a few steps. “Don’t be dramatic. We had fun.”

He catches my wrist in his grip, pulling me to him again. “I had you. The rest was forgettable.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“I can’t help it.” He pops his shoulder. “My girl fed me cheese straight from the bottle.”

“Your girl?”

“My girl.”

“This is such a bad idea,” I say, rethinking this whole thing—again.

“It doesn’t feel like that to me.”

“Yeah, well, lust and love can do that. They imitate the other like one giant cosmic prank on humanity.”

“I loved you before I ever even lusted after you.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“All right, maybe that’s a stretch, but I think they’re distinctively different. The two get confused because while each one can stand on its own, they both give the same impression that you’re either incredibly happy or decidedly miserable. Lust is temporary. A figment. But love…love is all-consuming. It seeps into your every pore, saturating your entire being for the rest of your life.”

“For someone that’s never had a girlfriend, you sure talk a good game.”

“Never before now.”

It’s not posed as a question, but the uncertainty in his eyes tells me it is. He’s waiting for me to make this official. What he doesn’t realize is, it already is.

What’d he just call it? Being saturated in love? I’m saturated by my feelings for Roz.

“Okay, cowboy, we’ll give it a go.”

He gathers me into his arms, gazing into my eyes.

“So, was I right? Are we Cardinals?”

“We’re Cardinals.” As if there was ever any doubt. “But Cardinals mate for life. For life,” I repeat, leaving the rest unsaid. I don’t know how long I have left here—none of us do—but I don’t want to waste any more time fighting this. Roz makes me happy. So incredibly fucking happy.

“Then it’ll be a life worth living,” he says before his lips lower to mine, making me the kind of promise I actually do accept.

We say our goodbyes, then I watch until his taillights disappear on to the road. Turning for the door, I notice a lump on the porch, just below the sitting room window, and stop. My dad built the wraparound porch specifically for him and my mom to grow old together, while sitting outside in their matching rocking chairs, but he doesn’t keep up with it anymore, so it’s starting to wear. It’s not unusual for it to be dirty, but we’re talking leaves and pollen, not…a bird?

Closer, I bend down to inspect it. American Goldfinch. Its small yellow and black body already stiff and cold. On the window, there’s even a faint outline of its spread wings.

My throat constricts.

Birds give us signs, including warnings.

A bird running into a window only means one thing—death.

Roz

“You got anything going on tonight?”

There’s a steady thrum on the other end, like a vibration.