Page 60 of Rebel Moon

“I’ve let you down,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m disappointed, but it’s not you, it’s me. Like I said, just me getting ahead of myself.” He paused for a moment, brushing his thumb along my jawline. “I’ve not felt like this about anyone in a long time. Maybe forever. It’s making me act like a darn fool.” He picked up one of my hands and kissed it. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Everything in me wanted to beg him to stay, but I couldn’t. It was not fair to play with a good man’s head, especially when he was being so decent and patient about it all.

He got up and put his jacket on. I joined him at the door, hugging him. “I’m sorry, Knox.”

“Don’t say it like that,” he whispered. “Don’t say it like it’s your final apology. Please.”

I stayed where I was, pressing my cheek against his chest, tears coming again.

He held me a moment longer. Finally, he kissed the top of my head.” Goodnight, Madeleine.”

And then he was gone. I stood at the door and listened to the uneven sound of him crossing the porch, careful on the ankle, down the steps, out into the dark fifteen feet toward his own cabin that felt like a whole frozen world away. Leaving just me, myself, and I sitting in front of a dying fire.

The ornament he carved with his clever hands glowed on the mantel. I picked up the miniature cabin, marveling at his artistry, running my finger along the smooth wood. The way the light shone through the windows made it feel so real, as if I just walked right through the door into the warmth of a home. A place always inviting, always safe. A place for Mindy Sue.

I sat before the fire, the cabin still in my hands. Why couldn’t I just walk into the home Knox offered me? Why was I this way? So full of self-hatred and shame, still. After all the work I’d done on myself, I’d somehow skipped the part where my heart could be open to love. Knox had laid himself wide open, showing me every vulnerable part, telling me how he felt about me, and I’d sent him away. What kind of person does that?

A person warring with herself. A woman who had sent her true self to an early grave so that she could survive. But I’d not realized that by killing Mindy I inevitably killed important parts of myself. Perhaps the ones that understood how to give and receive love. What remained was a pretty shell with a perfect nose and hair and designer clothes but with a hidden heart as dark as night … and no moon in sight.

16

KNOX

December 19

Baking Day with Elliot

Light snow throughout the day

Supper: Supper: Elliot's chicken pot pie · Winter salad

Iwoke to snow falling in fat flakes outside the windows. It was the nineteenth of December already, and I could feel the days starting to slip away. Thinking about the month ending and all of us going back to normal filled me with dread. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t even wanted to come to this month-long celebration, and now I never wanted it to end. Clearly, there was something wrong with me. And that something was Madeleine Price.

I knocked on her door before heading over to breakfast. She opened the door only a crack. “I’m not well.” She sounded faint. “Migraine.”

“Oh, no. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I just need to stay in my room with the lights out.”

“Text me if you need me, okay?”

“Thanks. Will do.”

The door shut but I stayed for a moment, reeling. She had a migraine. Or was it just an excuse?

That remained the question for the rest of that long day. There were baking lessons from Elliot but I skipped the activity, spending most of the day in my cabin working on the new song.

Madeleine didn’t show up for dinner. When I asked if anyone had heard from her, because I certainly hadn’t, Ivy said she was still sick in bed with the migraine.

“I’ve never known her to have migraines before,” Rhett said, glancing at me, as if I’d done something to her. Which I guess I had.

I only half-listened to the conversation at dinner, too preoccupied with my thoughts to have room for anyone else. After we were finished, Jack suggested the boys head to the bar together. “We haven’t had a chance to hang just us since we got here,” Jack said, clapping me on the shoulder.

Soon, we took over a corner of the otherwise empty bar. A server brought a pitcher of beer and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Rhett poured us each a shot.

“To a spectacular month,” Rhett said, raising his shot glass.