Not being able to see him makes this easier. It allows me to delve into depths I would usually be too afraid to explore. His grip on me tightens as he skims his fingertips up and down my side. “You’re whoever you want to be. Don’t you see…you’re trying so hard to remember, but most of us, we’re trying so hard to forget.”
“What are you trying to forget?”
“Everything,” he replies, stiffening. “But I don’t have the luxury of forgetting.” I know he isn’t belittling my situation; I understand what he means. After tonight, I don’t know if I want to remember who I was. But Cayden wrestles with his demons every single day.
We stay nestled, joined together in innocence as the air weighs heavily with an unspoken promise. Our hands are still linked, the ribbon our anchor. Remembering is suddenly n
