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His only sin was returning to me. Over, and over, and over again, without fail. That mutt.
The restless thing was fitful even when swaddled by the warmth of the hay bale, even when these steady hands held back its scruff. My brown eyes stared into its fading ones, forehead against its trembling one. I’d long since cleaned the gash in its back, but to no avail; It had never stopped whining until the dying embers behind me flickered out with it.
It’s a dying shame my memories of it didn’t go up with the smoke of the fire. The arduous task of fleeing this state wasn’t enough to keep it from clinging to me, even well past its death. Hardly a night would go by without my Mustang kickin’ up dust, with its neighing and such from my sporadic shouts when I broke out of a nightmare calling for the mutt I hadn’t even named.
Often, I’d be tossed back into that dusty clearing, the night a bounty hunter caught up with me. It’d been ‘bout a couple hours ‘fore sunrise when the mutt began pawing at me, barking- rather than its usual baying, against my ear. I thought I’d been able to high tail it out of there, nothin’ different from the other times I’d been warned, but not that night. Being upwind must’ve made the warning too little too late; the vermin was upon us. He got a few shots off in my direction, my foot found his face after he rushed me and grazed me with his bullets, then with his knfie after his gun slipped, the blade jabbing all ‘round as I wrestled with him ‘til my bullet found his chin all ‘fore I turned around and—
The mutt had rushed in, and for what? Pathetic li’l thing, goin’ ‘fore me.
But I still rose with the sun, like nothin’ ever happened; ‘cause I ain’t care for nothin’ or no one, that’s for damn sure. I gave it a grave of dirt and hay to be buried in—for my benefit—, to shield it from any skulking coyotes, or any passerbys who’d go associatin’ it with me.
And now it was just my Mustang and I for what…days? Weeks? We must’ve been nearin’ the border to Oklahoma, the ground reddening, and elevation rising. Though unfamiliar, it was as deathly quiet as it was vast, not unlike what I’ve been travellin’ through ‘til now. Nothin’ was ever high enough or close enough to ever shield me from the ever-persistent thought of bein’ watched, by God or man. I’d never been as daunting ‘til now, without something beside me to fret about every waking moment of the sun’s glare.
Once I get ‘round those canyon’s, some couple hours awa,y I could make way for a town. Though maybe it ain’t worth gettin’ close. Having yet another death under my belt was tellin’ enough of my slipups.
After makin’ it ‘round those canyons and putting on my clothes that’d used the last warmth of the sun to dry near the river, I was treadin’ back to what little camp I set up when I found myself being yanked down by the waist to the dirt below.
“Show yerself!”
I knew in an instant from my coarse binds it was a lariat tethering me. I can get my arms out. I gotta run, I have to run. Live. I gotta live. Gun. I’ll shoot ‘em if I must, anything to—
My hands stopped their tearin’ at the seams as my scowl honed in on those wide gray eyes of the one holding the end of the rope. Through my narrowed eyes, I assessed his dark blue wild rag matching the sky blue gingham flannel, sleeves pushed past his stilled hands and over his elbows. The brim of his brown western hat did little to hide his pure shock that nettled me so as he spoke.
“I’m real sorry ‘bout that!”
Oh, he must hate me.
I didn’t know! I broke off from the group as usual! I never expected someone else to be alone out here with me. My hand made it to my belt, and then I— I didn’t know what else to do!
I guess I was takin’ a while as a tornado ran through my head, ‘cause the young man shoved the other end of my lariat against my chest and was airin’ his lungs before I had realized.
“Are you a damn fool? What the hell d’you think yer doin’!?”
I quickly let my rope drop beside me as he jabbed a finger against my chest with each stressed word. I could only stare dumbly at him, tossing my thoughts of answering him aside to try and figure him out instead.
His revolver at his hip, the recent scars on his face, dressed in garb much different from me and the other cowboys up ahead, that piercing glare through his disheveled blood-stained blond hair.
I moved back a step as he took one forward.
“Don’t go ru-”
“Are you a rustler?” I cut him off a lot more curtly than I meant to. I watched his face scrunch at the corners of his eyes and mouth before he pushed his hand off me with a scoff, creating a distance I quickly filled in steppin’ forward.
“I just thought-”
“Don’t go shootin’ yer mouth off. The hell would one guy do with a whole herd of cattle out here?”
Being the one stopped short this time, I considered his words and knew how foolish my question was, but that also just confused me more, giving him a second lookin’ up and down.
Despite his hostility, my stiffened shoulders relaxed at the collar of his shirt.
“N-nothin’! I was wrong, sir…ah, preacher? M’bad” I rubbed the back of my neck that was burning up like hell.
The fellow looked more distraught at that than before, for no reason I couldn’t possibly imagine. The silence of the landscape around me returned as he kept tight-lipped. I let it sit for a moment or two before my questions and thoughts of the young man got the better of me.
“Could I ask who y’are then, sir? I’m, well, William. And uh, yeah”
I’ve really done it now, haven’t I? Pissed off some fellow who I’m startin’ to wager is an outlaw, out here with no one but God to witness if he were to shoot me dead.
“I-I’m workin’ on a cattle drive is all…I ain’t from here, I’m from Kansas. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout you, honest!”
The longer the silence continued, the longer the stranger’s brown eyes bore into mine…I couldn’t even think of nothin’ concrete, just smiling a half-baked smile like a stunned fool.
“...”
“The name’s Montresor”
His gaze remained just as intense, but I found myself smiling even as I’m sure his reaction would decide the fate of my life.
“That’s a real nice name, Monty, it’s, er, nice meetin’ ya”
And I blew it, didn’t I?
My smile froze in time as the nickname seemed to freeze his stance just the same. Stupid! Putting him on a nickname basis right out the gate. He probably thinks I’m intentionally tryin’ to disarm him—like I ever could—and now he’s gonna leave me. Leave me out here to, well…
“Dunno if lassoing me makes it a ‘nice meetin’’, Will”
Fear shot through me. No, was it relief? Or something new? A nameless emotion spread warmth to my freckled cheeks as I took the name he’s given me as an invitation to stay. My eyes arched with the widening of my smile.
“Won’t happen again, Monty” my breath hung in the air momentarily. “That is, if you want me ‘round of course.”
Monty frowned and turned to the side, walking deeper into the thicket of the low trees, surely beckoning me with the twitch of his fingers overhead his shoulder while speaking.
“You addle-headed or somethin’? You got a crew to get runnin’ to, dunno why yer straying off here.”
I trotted behind him as I considered his words deeply once again, having not thought much of sticking closely with the other cowboys. It was just a job to me to barely get by, to do somethin’ that’ll shape me up to be someone I’d be proud showing to Ma.
“Heh, never thought much ‘bout it, stayin’ on course that is. When I ain’t on watch for my section of the cattle, I like findin’ a place alone to think, maybe write. Mm dunno.”
I took a small patch of soft dirt as my cushion, sittin’ down when Monty did, my eyes glancing at his beauty of a Mustang before soaking in the sight of him again.
Monty seemed amused by my response, the way he looked away from me with a short chuckle and a shake of his head. I don’t believe he’s an outlaw, or at least not a cold-hearted one. The way he carries himself so easily, competent on his own, not needing nobody. It’s no wonder he must think the futile ways I try to make myself stand strong, to be something, is so damn stupid.
He just continues to chuckle softly for a few moments while tending to the small fire he just sparked to life before tending to me.
“It’s a miracle y’didn’t get left behind, ‘bein, what I imagine, so far out. Have anyone ever waitin’ on ya?”
It felt as if he was avoiding lookin’ at me entirely, but he must be busy keepin’ his fire controlled.
Heat spread along my skin again the more I ran his words through my thoughts, picking it apart and choosing my words carefully.
“Johnny used to. He is, well, was my, I guess, ah”
And there I go again.
I was lookin’ away now, holding my gaze on the flickering flames while what little confidence I had snuffed out.
“He died or somethin’?”
Well, that’s one way I can avoid my mishap. I felt my confidence flicker back alive, albeit barely.
“Naw. He’s out there, somewhere, anywhere really. You might’ve heard of ‘im if he’s havin’ his way. In papers, yknow, cause he’s ah, well, he had wanted to be an outlaw. N-not like bein’ one is bad, at least if you’re not trifflin’ with, just, yknow.”
“Simmer down, Will. I get it already”
I immediately turned to Monty with wide eyes, while lettin’ out the breath I was holdin’.
Everything’s alright.
“Heh, sorry.” Observing his relaxed eyes and slumped arms crossed over his chest, I decided to allow myself to want. I stretched my legs out in front while continuing. “But what ‘bout you? I can’t really fathom a preacher bein’ out here tavellin’ alone in this nothingness, and even if you're actually an outlaw…they too…are y’maybe goin’ to see someone? Have someone waitin’ for you?”
Monty fell silent again, and my heart pounded harder with each second. What if this is where I’ve messed up for sure? I keep wantin’ too much, and I’ll be left like before.
“That ain’t fer you to know”
I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. This is what happens when I do too much, when I don’t do enough. He’ll take off. I should’ve just toughened up then. Johnny…
“But yknow.”
“Yes?” I sat up much straighter. I should just get back to camp, just keep up the work as always ‘til the drive’s finished and I can take the train to see Ma. But I can’t let go.
Monty frowned again, but only for a short moment this time, ‘fore he laughed lazily and turned his back on me and the fire.
“Nevermind.”
I couldn’t protest. I couldn’t argue. I could do nothin’ but sit and watch as he turned away from me. It’s unfair, and yet, I’m sure wanting more than I should is unfair to him too.
I curled up, refusing to budge, and slowly willed my body to an early sleep while waking in a nightmare.
This must be temptation. Dangling someone like him before my very eyes. But I know better, I always do. He’ll be gone ‘fore the sun rises, or I for sure will be.
I couldn’t hear Will no more, but I knew he hadn’t left. He was probably fast asleep, or at least pretendin’ to be.
I braced myself for another nightmare as the fluttering of my eyelids slowed. Maybe Mother will make her appearance again. I’d place a hefty bet that she will, after all that has happened tonight. But she never did appear; no one did. A glowing pair of yellow eyes was all I saw.
As I sluggishly heaved myself off the ground, the wind picked up and instantly squandered the feeble fire. I guess this is how you’d treat me now, Lord. Should’ve known.
A chill ran through me, my hand fumbling for my hip while my other one propped me to stand up.
“Get!”
I yelled loudly, hoping it would scram like other coyotes I’d come across before, but the eyes skulked closer instead.
It took a step forward as I did back, until my heel thumped against Will’s arms. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and without thinking, I hauled Will to his feet and shook his shoulder with one hand.
“Get ready to run, Will!”
Both my horse and Will woke up with a start at my shout. My horse got to its feet but didn’t seem to bother much at the creature. Maybe it wasn’t too bad, just an overly curious coyote, nothin’ I couldn’t handle. And yet, the chills wouldn’t cease.
Raisin’ my revolver and cocking it, I aimed it at its spectral eyes, my aim faltering from Will’s clinging.
“What…what’s goin’ on? Monty?”
Takin’ no chances, I shot into the night; one, two, a third to be safe. No impact sounded, just the empty ring of the shots echoing toward the canyons. And there it stood, with no shadow and no figure in the sliver of the crescent moon. Nothing ‘cept those two yellow orbs.
“Go on, get!”
My voice was shaking now, my hands too, and not knowing how else to ease this feeling, I sheathed my gun and charged with a short knife at the creature, breaking away easily from Will’s grasp.
I’d intended to land a definitive blow, yet as the arc of my hand struck forward, I felt nothing but air, and those eyes vanished into it. My grip tightened as a shortness of breath overtook me.
It’s gone. It’s fine. Just a coyote. It’s fine. Or maybe a trick? No, it’s real. It was real.
“Monty?”
I swung my arm back and turned my head. I completely let go of the knife as short gasps of air flowed through me as I found his wide eyes in the dark, and I found reality.
“Don’t go sneakin’ up like that” I muttered while picking my knife back up and brushing past him on my way back.
I still felt chills, but I would manage. There ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.
Deeming the wind had died down enough, I started up small sparks that were enough to light a small branch. I turned, branch in hand, toward Will, who was just staring at me while slowly approaching me.
“...”
“Will?”
He put his hand up to his neck and I huffed at the sight. Got me worryin’ fer nothin’.
“I’m still not sure what happened, but thanks Monty, for savin’ me.”
I scoffed and gathered my satchel and hat from beside my horse.
“Nothin’ much ‘bout it. You were just gettin’ in the way lying there”
The silence between us felt much colder than earlier this evenin’. Fighting nothin’...dream or not, I don’t think I can stay. I gotta leave. Now, ‘fore I feel that in him again.
“Monty, I-”
I got my foot up on the stirrup after swinging my satchel ‘round my shoulder and puttin’ on my hat. I can’t have his words mean somethin’. He ain’t there. Will ain’t there. It’s ‘bout time I cut this off.
I’d gotten myself up upon the saddle, readyin’ to break off into the wide nothingness, when the reins slowly slid down held in Will’s hands.
“Monty, please.”
Don’t look at me like that.
I glared down at his desperate gaze, that helpless, hopeless, heartful gaze praying up at me. Lookin’ at me like I have somethin’ I can give, like I’m the only one who can. And he’s the only one who can give to me.
“Will?”
“Yes?”
“Run away with me?”
“...”
“...”
“Yeah.”
I must’ve lost my damn mind.
I took his outstretched hand, so warm in my absence of warmth. I pulled him up behind me on the saddle and let his warmth pressing onto my back snare me. I passed the branch to Will and took hold of the reins, taut in my hands. My grip tightened before snapping down with a quick tug to send us off, and off we went under my command.
Control. I am in control.
It’s morning, and Ma is holding me close with her calloused fingers in my hair. She’s talking to me ‘bout something, someone. I think it’s about Sallie. It was the day after I tended to the horses with Johnny. He’d been going off about bein’ an outlaw again, and I was laughin’ along as usual. He gave me one of his knowing smirks that spelt trouble. My heart raced then, but it was as if he went to look at me once more, deciding there for me, when he slapped me lightly on the shoulder and took off with one of the client’s horses in a blink of an eye, chasin’ the danger he sought without me or a goodbye. His poor dog went runnin’ toward him in vain, and Sallie left that day too. I didn’t have the heart to tell Ma who I’d really been cryin’ over.
“It’s mornin’”
“Huh?”
The real morning had come.
“Hurry on up. Time fer huntin’”
“Mkay” I yawned and got up from the ground, stretching my arms.
It’d been ‘bout a week since I left with Monty. I often dream vividly, that memory with Ma back at the house, but knowing I’d woken up to still see Monty clears the pain that comes with it.
Monty had gone hunting for the first day or so, but it turned out I had a better knack for it so I took over most of the hunting. I have Pa to thank for that. When I showed Monty a rabbit I caught, he was a lot more shocked than I expected, paling up even and refusing to look at me the rest of the day. Somehow, I don’t think it was a matter of pride.
Most days, when I finish hunting and we eat our breakfast or lunch, one of us goes out to town—always a small one—alone, more often it bein’ me cause of his unknown reasons he still keeps from me.
When it was evening time, I came back from town scorin’ a good ten bucks from a game of poker—guess I have a knack for that too—, and bought a heavy jacket with a fur collar with it. We could also afford to stay at the inn, but Monty insisted that while we were still this close to Texas, and while I was travellin’ with him, it wasn’t worth the risks. I never took him to be so cautious on this end, for those reasons, but I’m certain he knows best.
“I’m back, Monty”
He was tending to his horse’s tail that was smooth as silk at this point. I nearly smiled at the sight, but stopped myself. Monty hadn’t scolded me or nothin’, but his face paled a bit when I first did. He did that a lot, glaring or freezing up, only usin’ words when I’d done somethin’ that was more irritable than uncomfortable for him. I’ll never know the full picture if he doesn’t tell me what he’s on the run from, but he hasn’t pushed me out yet, and that’s what matters.
I find myself physically shaking out the thought as I scrunch my shoulders up and down while sitting well apart from him.
“I’m not sure how far North I’ll go. Might be on the run forever”
“Oh” I chuckled a little and got out an apple from my satchel to give to his Mustang. “Is Nebraska far enough? I mean if Kansas isn’t…”
He just continued to brush the seamless tail that couldn’t get much smoother.
I watched the horse accept my apple while I tried to hold onto this conversation, to Monty.
“I know my way ‘round Kansas, but if you’re still uncertain, then maybe I can cut your hair? I mean, can’t do much ‘bout the gold tooth but, well, heh. I guess it’d be sad cuttin’ some off.”
Monty stopped combing, staring at the tail in his hands for a good long while. I think he’s tuned me out, and I can’t— I don’t want that.
“Stay with me! I mean, at my place, or somewhere near there. I’m sure my Ma wouldn’t mind”
The drain of his color made certain to me I was only makin’ things worse. But of course I was. Always makin’ things difficult, holding someone back who could do better without me. Always.
My lips pursed as I stared down at my hands, trying to find somewhere to direct this growing unpleasantness I was feeling. It must be whatever he saw back there that’s causing him to break down like this. It must be! Monty wouldn’t freeze so easily; I couldn’t be affecting him like this. But really, I know it must be my fault. It always is. Always.
“I…I can leave. I can leave if that’s what you want.”
I regret the offer the moment I force it through my lips. No, don't tell me to leave! But if you really want me to, maybe I should, if you’re happy. But I don’t want to. I want to stay forever, and ever, and ever. Will he tell me to go? To stay? Monty?!
“For fuck’s sake Will. Grow a backbone, and own your life like a real man.”
Ah.
It’s evenin’, and Mother is holding back my hair in slow, small rakes of her claws. She moves the strands off and over my ears, and in the empty space she mutters words of my existence, my foolish, lawless, faithless existence. The whispers send rivers of bitter winter through my veins, through blood I cannot escape; her essence I’m made of. But I alone am the sinner of this family. I wish to pull away, so far away that the bottom of my hair tears in bloody clumps as I bleed her blood out of me and free her claws from me along with it. Yet I remain below God’s gaze, only able to spite him by renouncing the fear Mother claims is held over me. She whispers into my other ear of things I cannot have, what the devil cannot have. She speaks of stability and love, to be given it and to give in return; and I fear them. I fear through God she speaks truth, that I cannot attain what I’ve been forsaken. I cannot have what is true, cannot be with one who lives in truth. I am foolish, lawless, and faithless.
“Then I choose to follow you”
Oh.
I’m back at the camp, my brush long since fallen from my reach, and my truth before me has chosen to be soiled with my lies.
I can’t stand looking at the mask he wore as he answered me so deadpan with those dulled eyes, not yet anyway. But it quells my want for more, to yearn, to be more than I am, and I hate the relief his mask is bringing me.
“Do whatever you like.”
I could hear his mask crack with his quiet stutters and the unfolding of the new jacket he’d gotten, but I turned my back to not see him fall apart.
I draped my long coat over my side and shivered well into the night. We never returned to the conversation since then, and I certainly couldn’t afford to tell him why. He’d get too close to me, the me that’s reaching out past the words my Mother keeps me in.
The unspoken arrangements between us gradually changed following that night. Will doesn’t need me to wake him up to go huntin’, not that we really need to, now that we’ve gone into Kansas and we’re sharing the risk of stayin’ at an inn. When he’s gone, I sometimes look at the few things he leaves scattered from his satchel: a leather-bound journal, a pocket-sized bible, and a handful of stamps, along with small white envelopes. I sometimes hear him writin’ late at night, and I usually stop myself from listenin’ when his sobs break through and entrap me in the small space.
“Wanna join ‘em, Montresor?”
“...What?”
He must have caught whatever flashed across my face ‘cause I watched him shudder ‘fore turnin’ to the window and laughing in that short and soft laugh of his. He’s still there, it seems.
“Buck-up, Monty. Yknow I'm just messin’ with ya.
I joined him at the window with a short click of my tongue before looking upon the ground below, laden with snow, fellows runnin’ across it with instruments in hand, families gently ushering their children along as they drew closer to the sounds of a choir beginning to practice along with the arriving musicians, small candles strung around tables illuminating their faces.
“Yeah well, it’s nothin’ worth headin’ over to a chapel just to suffer through carols and empty well-wishes.”
“Oh?”
I shot him a glare, and he backed down with another laugh of his.
“Well, then, why don’t we go to the edge of town instead? Got somethin’ to show you.”
I raised an eyebrow before shrugging, letting him guide me to whatever’s in store while bracin’ myself. I fixate on the crowd in the distance, the community circling a cedar tree peppered with walnuts tied with string, a white chain made of paper looping in uniform waves among the branches, and candles secured to the sturdiest of the structure. I tear my eyes away and walk with Will for several minutes ‘til I can make out a faint glow outside an uneven circle of dead trees.
When we approach the source, I can see it’s a decorated tree, although its branches are a plain, dead gray. It’s given some semblance of life through its daring to catch fire from the tiny disks of candles fastened to it. A single garland of cranberries wraps around the tree in a spiral motion. A few of them that barely hang on managed to land in the puddling wax of the candle and bleed its essence out in the hardening warmth instead of dissolving in the soft bite of the cold, shimmering bright underneath.
Will wipes his hand across the top of two surfaces, revealing the raw bark of the tree stumps. I watch silently as he takes out a flour sack that’s filled with somethin’ from behind the tree. He puts it on the snow in front of him as he sits on one of the stumps. I follow suit and take my place across from him.
I’d open my mouth to sneer at the gesture that I clearly haven’t earned and never will, but my throat tightens, and my eyes dare not blink in seeing that face of his I thought I lost in our time way back in Oklahoma.
He keeps starin’ at me with such hopeful eyes, after everythin’ I told him to be, after everythin’ I saw he was becoming, he keeps returnin’ to me over, and over, and over again.
“Uhm, Merry Christmas, Monty.”
I never knew he could blush like that. I fixated on Monty’s face turnin’ a soft peach-pink next to the candlelight. Perhaps it was simply from the cold, but I think I want to believe otherwise, even if just for today.
I’d gone through the trouble this week exploring the town, finding exactly what I’d need, from gifts to finding a suitable tree befitting us. I wanted to make sure everything was thought out to ensure we’d be here tonight, hoping, praying he’ll see I’m worth keeping around. Though deep down, I know I just wanted one last chance to lay the true me—whatever even is true—out in front of him. Then, when he laughs tonight off, and tomorrow comes, I’ll forevermore play the part he wishes for me. I’ll be happy. Ma, I’ve found my happiness.
I bat away what I swear to be snowflakes in my lashes.
“Oh! I got a few things here”
I undid the string with a quick tug and motioned to the opening of the sack in front of him. My breath hung in the air as he reached inside and pulled out a pair of spurs, the steel as clean as a whistle. He didn’t utter his usual quip, nor any scoff or turn of his head. He just gazed so poignantly across the spurs. I almost allowed myself to take that as a sign that maybe he actually prefers this me that I am, that it’ll last beyond the celebratory toll of the church bells as midnight strikes.
But I can’t afford to be fooled twice.
Monty put the spurs in the inner pocket of his coat before reaching into the bag once more. He paused, sparing a moment to read my expression before lifting a Colt revolver, the spittin’ image of his, from the bag’s confines.
“I don’t need a new one.”
The words nearly didn’t process as I was caught off guard by how quietly they were spoken to me.
“I know. I just thought I would show you what I’m going to carry with me. I want to be more like you, carry my weight by your side. I’ve, heh, well, already been practicin’.”
I spotted traces of the Monty I knew from Texas in the slight glare in his eye, the strained curve of his lips, his free hand movin’ forward to scold me with a jab—
His bitter laugh reverberated through me as he clenched my jacket and rattled my head in pullin’ me inches from his face.
“Goddamnit, Will. You— where have you gone!?”
No, why is it turning out like this? Just make a joke, or roll your eyes. Just let me toss this fruitless hope aside! I’ve had enough of putting my faith in myself.
“I-I don’t know what you mean. I’m followin’ through on my decision to follow you. I won’t quit I swear, I won’t leave, yknow, my Ma didn’t raise no quitte-”
“You can’t stay! Not like this!”
In an instant, I had a fistful of his coat, shakin’ him with each retort of mine, ignoring the alarms that sounded through my head as I did so.
“No! He’s gone, Monty! He’s gone ‘cause this is what you want! I want this me for you, so you’ll want me!”
What am I saying? I know I’m gone, I’ve been gone for quite a while. Yet I’ve stubbornly let me have my way, bringin’ out this Monty I don’t understand, the one who’d rekindle that want within me, for that bullshit pipedream of mine!
He sent the revolver to the white void, sinking far behind him out of view. I hardly readjusted my tremblin’ hold on him when he pulled me to my feet. For a mere moment, I was back in the darkness of the wilderness, following the light of Monty’s torch as he saw through me, and those few seconds when he offered his hand, his words illuminating a future of what could be.
That same hand brought me back to his eyes, guiding my cheek to his determination that chills me so.
“What have I done? I’ll have to bring you back, I have to…”
“But here I am now. Monty, please. I can’t afford going through this again,” I lowered my voice as my other hand settled on his cheek. I shook my head with a ghost of a smile while he sucked the cold air through his teeth in short spurts.
It’ll be okay. Everything will be as it should when this is over.
“Monty, can’t you see? I’ll love you even if it hurts me. But at least this way, we’re sure to stay together.”
His thumb graces my bottom lip. I know it’s a confirmation, I know it’s a sign he’s figured somethin’ out that I’ve yet to learn. Even as my heart is thundering within me, even if I’m being, by some miracle, reciprocated, is it really okay to want this? For me?
“Will?”
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
I should be thrilled, frozen from the sheer exhilaration of it all, but instead I stood frozen in the reveal of the Monty I’ve been too scared to try to understand.
His hands treated me as if I were more delicate than the snowflakes lining the ground. His eyes were so distant, like he was pulling away from the piece of him he let reveal.
Would accepting this help him? Hurt him? Can I want this for him and for me? It must be painful either way. He’ll suffer either way, and so will I, so maybe this is my chance to stop runnin’. If I meet the real him in the middle with the real me, I can be at peace with how this’ll end because it was real.
I think…I’ll allow myself to want this.
“Yes, Monty”
When his lips press onto mine, the world fades, and that’s okay. I can worry about me, about us, about runnin’ from the law later. Just let me have this.
Maybe in another life, a different timeline, we wouldn’t have to suffer like this. Or maybe we still would.
We’d sin for each other in every life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.