Page 239 of Reaper Said Mine

I lean against the wall and press one hand over my mouth.

Because that is the thing I needed and the thing that hurts. He is still there. Still himself. Still changing. Still making choices under fire. Still the man who listens, the man who kills, the man who tore open a shelter door, the man who signed a treaty with a snake because children needed corridors.

I type slowly.

I’m still here too.

For a moment, the message remains unsent beneath my thumb.

It feels too small again.

Everything true feels too small lately.

I send it anyway.

Then I add another.

I don’t know how to feel about what you did.

His reply takes longer.

Neither do I.

The honesty loosens something in my chest, though it does not heal it.

Bellamy appears at the end of the hall carrying two cups of caf and wearing the cautious expression of a man approaching a wild animal with workplace benefits. “I come bearing terrible caf and no advice unless requested.”

I take one cup. “Excellent policy.”

He leans against the opposite wall. “You okay?”

“No.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

“Fair.”

We stand together listening to the rain.

After a while, he says, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you misunderstood him.”

I look over.

Bellamy stares into his cup as if it might reveal a better universe. “I think you understood a man who got shoved into a situation where every decent instinct could be used against him. That’s different.”

My throat tightens.

“I keep wondering if I loved the part of him that resisted the leash and ignored the part that would take one to save a child.”

Bellamy winces. “That is uncomfortably insightful and above my emotional pay grade.”

“Useless man.”

“Medium-pretty man. We established this.”

Despite everything, a small laugh escapes me.