Once We Were Starlight

I leaned in and planted my lips on his, pulling my body closer.

Obviously caught off guard, he went still for the breath of a moment, before pulling quickly away. He scooted back, running his hand through his hair.

“It’s okay,” I said in a rush of words. “I wanted to kiss you.” I looked down shyly. “I wanted you to kiss me back.”

Cody stood, moving to the fireplace where he put his hand on the mantel, his back to me. After a moment he turned. “No,” he said. “It isn’t right. I’m sorry. You’re beautiful, and you’re . . . captivating, Karys. But I’m here to support you, not to muddy the waters you’re still wading through.”

Hurt made my heart feel tight and painful. “Is that really it?” I asked. “Or is it that you saw us? On Sundara? You saw what we were.” I teared up, shame flooding my chest.

Cody pressed his lips together, walking back to the couch and sitting back down, but farther away from me this time. “It’s not that. You deserve time to figure out who you are, above and beyond any man. Even Zakai. There’s a depth to you, Karys, one I don’t think you even recognize or understand yet. You’re going to do amazing things with your life.”

You deserve time to figure out who you are, above and beyond any man. Even Zakai. My uncle had said the same thing. Even if he had ended up betraying me. Still . . . maybe they were both right, but if so, why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel so incredibly lonely?

Cody accompanied me home on the subway and we walked in silence that had become comfortable during the journey back to my home. The stars weren’t always visible in New York City but that night they were, and something about the sight gave my heart solace and allowed me to find peace in Cody’s rejection. I’d been seeking something in his arms that his arms would not provide.

As we traveled in companionable silence, I considered what that something might have been. I’d felt rescued by him once again, but from what this time? From your sadness, my heart whispered. Yes, I’d felt rescued from my sadness, perhaps because I’d never truly learned how to bear it alone. Zakai and Bertha, and the other members of my family to a lesser extent, had shielded me and carried my burdens. I’d “repaid” Cody for lightening my sorrow, by offering the one thing I had of value: my body. But Cody had seemed to recognize the situation for what it was. His work was with people who’d experienced the same thing as me. How could he not understand? He was a good and honorable man.

Life, I was beginning to realize, would deliver the lessons I needed to learn and to grow. It was up to me to be brave enough to reach my arms wide and accept them.

“Be well, Karys,” he whispered when we’d reached my door.

“You be well too, Cody Rutland,” I whispered back. My rescuer. His role in my life had ended, but I’d forever be grateful for what he had done.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Dawson was in one of my classes that first semester back, and he asked me out to dinner but I declined. It was nice to see him but my heart simply wasn’t in a new relationship. I needed to focus on myself. And I was still mourning Zakai, despite the hateful way he’d treated me on that rooftop on the winter night I turned eighteen.

I saw Dawson holding hands with a pretty blonde several months later and he raised his hand, holding up what appeared to be a broken pencil and giving me a sad smile. I blew out a breath, smiling back and giving him a small wave.

“Girl, you read so damn much, why you haven’t declared an English major yet, I have no idea,” Ayana said one day as I sat at the break table in the back, my nose in a book, a half-eaten sandwich in front of me.

“My college counselor said I should think of a job I want to do and then choose a major based on that,” I said, frowning. “But I still have no idea what I want to do. Other than work here.” And read. But unfortunately, that wasn’t something anyone was going to pay me for.

“Now that’s just plain sad. I love you, Karys, but you can do better than serving up soup for the rest of your life.”

“I like serving soup,” I said. And I did. But she was right. Waiting tables didn’t stir my soul the way I figured some job might. What that was though, I still had no idea.

“I know, dollface. But there’s something bigger for you out there, I feel it in my gut. And, baby, my gut ain’t never been wrong yet.”