Page 13 of Taken By Shadows

I dared a look around then. Keeping my back to him just didn’t feel right. He was covered at least by holding his clothes over himself. It was uncomfortable to say the least. But it was unfair that I had blurted out my plans.

“I am leaving,” I repeated. Steady. Sure. And saying it out loud finally made it real. I thought I would feel sick at the reality of it. Of the finality of saying it to him. But I felt an odd sense of something in my blood. Was that excitement?

“I got that. Now get to the part where you explain why. What are you thinking? Leave for where? For how long?”

“I don’t have to explain, Bray. I’m just leaving.” I couldn’t, in fact, explain. Not to him. I reflexively went to touch the pendant beneath my blouse but stayed my hand before it moved.

The seed of my curiosity about my parentage, the place I’d come from, the people who had left me had finally begun to take root, and now there was no way to stop it. I just had to grow with it.

But how did I explain that to the boy who had grown up in a loving family? One that cherished him. Their pride. Their heart. How did I explain to the farm boy who fit in? His chestnut hair and curls the same as his father’s. His brown eyes the same as his mother’s. His ears the same as theirs. How did I explain to the person who didn’t understand what it was to not belong that I needed to find what that felt like?

“Yes, you do!” His voice bellowed, but it was somewhat undercut by the bundle of clothing at his crotch while he dripped.

The details of my plan to travel south, to see the coast, burned on my tongue as I refused to utter them. What good would it do Bray to know those things? “You’ve always belonged. You don’t know what it is to feel like you don’t.”

“What? What are you talking about? You do belong. You belong with—”

“Don’t. Please,” I cut in with a pained whisper.

“With me,” he huffed.

I didn’t mean to, but a pitying look fell over me. I chewed my lip, uncertain of what, if anything, was the right thing to say here. “I know you think that. But I … don’t. I don’t belong. Here. With you. I don’t know where I belong. But I’m going to find that.” I backed away two steps. “I’m sorry, Bray. I didn’t mean it to come out like this. I didn’t ask you to come with me. I was always going to leave. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“And Leesha?”

I winced. “She knows. I just—”

“I’m not important enough?” he cut over me.

I ignored his question. “She has Jon.” Leaving them had been more difficult than I’d imagined.

I didn’t belong with them. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of me that would mourn the departure.

“Without saying goodbye?” His nostrils flared as his chest heaved in and out.

“It’s easier this way.” I backed away as he reached for me, nearly uncovering himself.

“Easier for who? Does this look easy?” His voice rose to a shouting pitch.

I crossed my arms, shook my head, and backed away another step.

“Damn it, Gen. Wait. Just give me a minute. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted. I’m sorry. Just—let me get dressed.” He fumbled with his pants. “You can’t leave. I can’t let you. I … I need you.”

But I backed away farther from his reach until he tumbled to the ground. “I’m sorry, Bray. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. This is my choice. I told Leesha because I didn’t want to break her heart by vanishing.”

That was an overstatement. Maybe I was protecting mine from the loss she wouldn’t feel. The sadness I wouldn’t have seen in her eyes.

“But you’re happy to break mine?” He’d managed to get his legs into his pants now and was standing as he did them up.

“I … I didn’t …” I’d known Bray had feelings for me for a while. I just thought they were conflated with lust. I didn’t think they were any more than urges. Maybe if I’d been honest with myself about last night, I could have predicted this.

“Didn’t know? Gen, how could you not know? I left to follow you when I saw you were going because I thought—” He released a long breath into the cooling evening air. His chest was still damp from the river. “I thought I’d be able to speak with you alone. To—”

“Bray, don’t.” I cut him off before he could suggest something we’d both regret. “Don’t do this. Not now. I’m leaving. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“I wanted to marry you, Gen! Damn it!” he said in a rush. His voice boomed across the sky until two birds, one black, one pale as snow, escaped the canopy with the ruckus that shook them loose.

My throat seized, and my heart went cold and still in my chest.