Cole sits there a moment like he’s thinking this over, so I splay his outstretched fingers on my shoulder. Playing with them to give him his time.
“I’ve never thought about it,” he admits. “I did wish I could have been an astronaut after my mom died though.”
My movements jerk to a stop. He kisses the top of my head as if to reassure me that he’s alright. Some, not all, of the uneasiness washes away after that. I know how much he misses her.
We’ve both lost our mothers at a too young age. Sure, mine had been breathing but to the world, she might as well have been dead. Now she really is.
“I thought that if I had a rocket, I’d find her somewhere up in the sky. She always joked about visiting the moon.”
I sink farther into his side. Cole’s confession is bittersweet. The once nice memory conducive to what lies ahead for Cole’s future.
The more we stay like this, the more the words tighten like a rope around my heart. Squeezing until I think it’s going to burst. A single blow right there and I’m a goner.
I’ve always been curious about Camellia. She’s an anomaly to me.
The last time I’d pushed for answers, it didn’t end up so well for either of us. Right outside this hallway, in fact. Speaking without thinking, my anger demanded answers. Unknowing at the time that his mother had committed suicide.
Since then, I’ve done my best not to pry unless he brings her up, learning my lesson. The sensitivity he has for her is understandable. She’d been the only decent parent he’d had, and then he lost her.
To make matters worse, he’d been the one to find her too.
“How come you never take this off?” He asks, flicking his pinkie at the charm on my bracelets. The crescent moon medallion dangles.
“I don’t really know.” Speaking into nothing. “I guess I promised I would always take care of it… so I have.”
It sounds stupid to hold on to it after so long, but I don’t know. The man who’d given it to me seemed so sure, and it’s one of the few gifts I’d ever received.
Blindly I gave him my loyalty.
Cole rotates it between his thumb and his index. It gleams, reflecting off the light outside the windows.
“Who gave it to you?” He’s still looking at it.
The question catches me off guard, a lot like the way he’s still examining the item on my wrist. Like he’s studying it.
“I don’t know.”
His fingers stall, eyeing me down. “You don’t know?”
“I can’t remember what his face looks like,” I tell him. Because it’s the truth. I remember the day and everything leading up to it but every time I try to picture him... nothing. Forever faceless to my memory.
A muscle in his cheek locks, something about what I’ve said he doesn’t like. I try to right it.
“It was a present. Ironically, I got it on the same day I got my book.” I got them for two completely different circumstances. Still, I’d been given them, nonetheless.
I also don’t have to specify which one because Cole not only knows which book I’m talking about but has read it.
His features pinch tighter, brows peaking in the middle. Other than that, he doesn’t vocalize his concerns. Analyzing what I said internally.
“It looks like it would hold value to someone.”
I tilt my head back, confused by the comment. What an odd observation.
“I think I keep it because it reminds me that I’m not alone.” I peek up at him. “You know?”
His eyes turn hard. “Rory, you aren’t ever alone with me.”
I appreciate the comment, but I roll my eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean.”