Page 155 of We Redeemed the Rain

“What?”

She pointed to a splotch of blue stain on the side of my left arm. “Is this ink?”

I looked. Sure enough, blue ink lifted from my skin with the rain, creating a watery blur of dripping color. The ink on my hand had been washed away but the arm and wrist stains remained.

“Yeah, I think so.”

She stared in amazement. “Did you write?”

“Until early this mornin’.”

I lifted my right hand to wipe the mess away and she swatted it. “Don’t you dare wipe it off!”

“Why?”

“Because—I think it’s beautiful. You always complained about your smudges. But it’s like”—she softly laughed—“it’s like you capture your words back again after you’ve put them down. Just another way they are a part of you.” She ran her fingers over my arm, leaving streaks in the liquid color.

“What did you write?”

I took a deep breath, thankful for the lead in. “Pages and pages about you.”

Her gaze snapped to mine and she released my wrist. “Me?”

“Yes, Bea, you. I only wrote about you.”

Her question was breathless. “What—what about me?”

“Well, first, I tried my best to describe you.”

She was quiet, hanging on every word.

“And you should know that’s a damned hard task, Bea Thompson. Wanna hear what I came up with?”

She bit her bottom lip, nodded.

“You know the stained glass windows on churches?”

She nodded again.

“You’re like one of those. Undeniably beautiful and unique on the outside, but it’s the light shinin’ through you that makes people stop and marvel. You cast color and life and meanin’ on anything that stands in your path, Bea.”

Her jaw fell slightly ajar, and I felt a little self-conscious.

“That probably sounded cheesy as hell?—”

“Stop.” She laid a finger over my lips. Her own trembled and she pressed them together to still them. “That was without a doubt, the most beautiful compliment I’ve ever received.” She swallowed. “Youwrotethat about me?”

“Yes. That’s not all.”

Her eyes stormed with tears, her voice a whisper. “What else?”

“I tried to sort through all the voices in my head, ‘cause there’s something I want, and I’ve been tryin’ to figure out if I’m too far gone to have it.”

“Tell me.”

For a moment, the world stilled as she waited and as my heart lurched to confess.

My voice rasped, “Us, Bea. I want us.”

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