My Secret
Lying on the cold, firm snowit was only yesterday that it had turned slushy, but tonight, the thin glaze of frost returnedit almost felt pleasant against my back. Inside, though, everything burned: blood hammered in my temples, pain thudded in my chest, my face flushed hot, my mouth so dry it felt sandpapered.
I scooped a handful of snow with a trembling hand and, jaw barely unclenching, pressed the chunk between my teeth. The cold numbed my tongue, but the moment soured with a metallic tangmy gums were torn; blood oozed and forced me to cough, to swallow. I had no strength leftto roll over, to spit, to do anything at all.
The snow dulled the agony, and for that, I thanked the heavens; free anaesthetic, God bless the English winter. Still, the pain didnt quite leaveit only ebbed away, toward the horizon where a red sun slipped below the fields. Watching the sunset stung, its harsh glow making my eyes sting.
I shut them tight. The massive disk of sun was now just a smudgy, grey-yellow blur behind my eyelids.
If only I could crawl somewheresome hollow, a dip behind the hedgerow, curl up small, hide, warm myself with fever and shivers, whining and trembling like a kicked mutt. But my legs were lead, dead weight on the snow, an occasional spasm running through them.
I tried rolling onto my side, bracing with my right arm, but it failed under me, a knitting needle of pain stabbing my shoulder.
Fine Fine, lets try the other way, I muttered between gritted teeth, startled by my own hoarse, ruined voice.
On my left side, I found less painenough to awkwardly pull myself upright and sit, but my hand, sinking into the drift, couldn’t keep me up. My body slumped again, pressed cold and flat into the snow.
Die. Thats all thats left nowjust die here, in this very spot, and itll all be over. What happens after doesnt matter now. Id bitten off more than I could chew; took my chances, crossed lines. I deserved this fateno rescue here.
Theyd find my body in the morning. So they promised. But Wolves will probably get there first. Even four-legged ones have to eat. Maybe then, Id have the last laughtheyd get nothing but bones.
Dark fell quickly. I had never been so tired. I kept dropping into nothingness, floating in blackness like a tiny fish clamped in the jaws of something monstrous. It was peaceful, almost pleasant, until I returned to the pain. Memory burst in red flashes, shot down my veins, twisted my muscles. I clenched my jaw. And with every wave, a wild, powerless sort of rage rose upuseless, ugly, but hotter for its emptiness. Like rearing at an enemy, arms wide, screaming even though youre unarmed. Sometimes its enough to scare one.
And yet, a sharp urge for revenge nagged at me from time to time. But I could never strike a woman. Couldnt, physically. So revenge stayed a fantasy
The anger forced my thoughts to keep moving, the rusty gears sticking, stuttering, yet grinding on.
Worse, from deep inside came feara primal, raw animal terror of dying. It, too, kept me from passing out.
I heard wolves howling from the wood on the left. I grimaced: No! You wont get me that easily! Wolves all of youwhether you walk on two legs or fourbut you wont have my bones!
I had to move. Where, didnt matter. How, didnt matter. Even crawling, as long as I wasnt here anymorein this puddle of defeat.
Mum. Oh, God, I felt so sorry for herwaiting, anxious, hoping for some sign. She didnt know where I was. Shed never know how it ended Well, maybe someone would tell her. Shed cry. And Id be the cause. Dad would curse me; too right, too right
Waves of nausea hit. Tears prickled my eyes and froze on my cheeks before they could fall to the torn cuffs of my coat
I crawled. Pathetically, I heaved my body forward with my one good arm, dragging my uncooperative legs behind me, leaving a smear of red behind. Inch by agonising inch, getting further from that hollow, hungry howl.
Then I finally slipped into nothingness. It was blisscomplete release. No pain, no thoughts. Blank and blank. If this was hell, I liked it. I wanted to stay as long as possible. Hey, demons, Im yours. Take methe ruins of my body arent worth anything now.
But I wasnt welcome, even there. Blinding yellow light blazed in my face, icy water flooded my mouth.
Well? Are you going to cough or not? You need to coughall out, get it up! someone clapped me on the cheeks, rough enough to fire sharp pain through my face and bleeding gums.
Uhhh I moaned, twisting away, spitting blood-tinged water onto the snow.
So, youre alive, then? Good enough. Come on, well get you home. My place isnt far. Lie on this sheepskin. Lets go. What, too weak? Fine, Ill do it Strong arms lifted me, laid me onto a thick, musky-smelling fleecy coat.
What a mess they made of you! I heard the commotion. Car engine. Had a look out the windowsaw headlights. They always come out here, using this field as a graveyard. Fools. Complete fools The stranger muttered, tucking me in tighter. Come on, lets patch you up and see whats what.
I mumbled something about wolves and enemies returning, then slipped into a gentle, dark warmth and let consciousness vanish.
Youre such a dear, so gentle! Charlotte laughed, letting me kiss her rounded, glistening shoulders. Are you a calf, then? My little calf? She grabbed my face, pressed her lips to mine, breathing in my heat. Then, suddenly, she pulled away, leapt up, fastened her robe, and tied the belt in a rush. Go. Time for you to go.
Lottie I stretched languorously under the crisp, starchy sheets. I want to sleep Its not even latelook at the time! Why are you throwing me out again?
By now I spent most nights at Charlottes. Shed feed me dinner, steer me into the bath, lay out clean linens for me. She always kept everything fresh, sparklingturned out the light, waited for me. The night would flash bystraight out of the army, starved for warmth and beauty, I tumbled from her bathroom straight into heaven. She was beautiful, tender, head and shoulders above every girl whod ever batted their lashes at me.
Id watch Charlotte pull on stockings over her smooth, pale legs, or slip behind the changing screen for her dress and underthings.
Through the mirror, I caught every glimpsethe sunlight painted her golden, dazzling, otherworldly utterly desirable.
I said, out you get! she said quietly, not unkind. Zip me up and off you go. Max, dont push it. Come tomorrowtomorrow
We kissed again for a moment, before she tossed my clothes and left.
I could hear her turning on the hob in the kitchen, grinding coffee. That slightly burnt, bitter tang drifted through the flat. Her husband, Henry, loved his coffee strong, with pepperclaimed it was divine. Lottie would sit on a wobbly kitchen stool, smiling, noddinglegs tucked like a hen over the bar, careful never to slip and call him Max by mistake
I lingered a bit, slipped into the bathroom, splashed about, then surfaced leisurely, shirt and trousers on, and leaned on the kitchen door. The morning sun blazed through her robe, outlining her in a light so bright, every curve was outlinedthe guitar-shaped traces of her body.
Charlotte was fifteen years older than me, and I wore that fact like a medal. It gave me pride, being chosen by hersingled out from all the lads orbiting around.
Charlotte She was patient with my clumsy flirting, laughed in a musical way, kissed until I nearly lost myself. She let me stay in her flatgrand, stately, with polished floors, high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, fine dishes. She fed me, watched me devour potato cakes from the pan, bash at a meatball with my fork, fumble a shot down my throat. Shed clink glasses with me, arm in arm, then throw her head back and laugh, inviting my rough kisses to her soft white neck.
She hadnt wanted this between us, but Id insisted.
One day, spotting her on the Tube, I pushed through the crowd to speak to her. I was drunk, bold. My mate George was with me, but I lost him somewhere.
I forced a walk with her all the way homea proper stalker. At her blocks door, she told me to leave. I nodded, pretended to go, then ducked into the archway, staring up, waiting for her window to light.
First floorthe windows faced my way. I could see her silhouette moving about behind the curtains, undressing. I watched, spellbound, nearly whining aloud with yearning, until the caretaker chased me off with a broom.
I showed up beneath her window every night. I couldnt help myself, told Mum I was off for a walk, but really stood on that same patch of pavement for hours.
I saw her husband, too. The kitchen window faced the street. Henry would pace about the flat in his vest and saggy old trousers, skinny and bony, hunched, always twitching his head. Why on earth did she marry him?! Did she love him?
Henry would eat his supper slowly, reading the paper, then Lottie would make his tea and bring out a biscuit. And I watched. Once, he must have felt mehe whipped round, yanked the curtains shut. Two silhouettes blurred into one. It made my skin crawl. My Charlotte, kissing him?
I tired of peeping, broke in one night, straight into her bedroom. Her husband was awayId seen him leave. I didnt have to worry. I was ready for adventure.
When she saw me at her desk, Charlotte froze, wanted to cry out, but I was on her in a flash, hand over her mouth. Then I kissed her.
She smelled sublimeher hair, her lips, her little summer dresseverything had a fragrance.
My mum never wore perfumealways reeked of the factory, or cigarettes. She smoked those foul, unfiltered ones, her teeth yellow, never smiling with her lips apart. But Charlottes teeththey were straight, white, like from a magazine. Mum dressed poorly; Id never noticed before, but now I compared and blushed with shame. Id like to buy her something nice, but then, I thought of the moneyId rather use it for Charlottes flowers. Her husband never brought her bouquets. To me, he seemed useless, a wreck. Yes, their flat was exquisite, all dark wood and real art on the walls, not paper clippings like our council place. Royalty could dine on her plates, her jewels fit an empress. But that was inheritance, shed let slip; her husband only enjoyed her ancestors’ wealth. What a scrounger
But that was not me. I wanted Charlotte herself, no trappings. Granted, the delicious suppers and soft sheets made things better, but honestly, Id have taken her to a hayloft just the same.
Charlotte always smelled subtly elegantmaybe French, maybe Italian. I didnt know perfume, I just breathed her in. From her hair, her skin, the hollow at her throat
I would gaze at her, and yescall her my woman. Id conquered her, invaded her sanctum, and shed fallen to me.
She did everything with graceeating, undressing, smoking. She moved as fluidly as the contours of the guitar her hips described. She was my goddess.
That first night, I never forgot. She was especially gentle, open. She was honest, never mocking, never coy. She melted in my hands, and the force of it overwhelmed me. Morning light made it obviousshe loved me. Her husband was a duty, a prison sentence. With me she breathed, she lived. My veins pulsed with it.
Sometimes she rushed me away at dawn.
Up you get, darling, time to go, shed whisper after our third night. Hell be home soon. Coming back from his trip. Come on, Max My darling, my sweetest Her fingers brushed my face, my body she so adored. Dont come for a weekhell be home, then gone again.
How about I just have a word with him? I joked. Man to man. I want you for myself, Lottie! I want to be your husband!
She only laughed, head thrown back, her hair tumbling over her shoulders like a tide of chestnuts. I leapt up, wrapped her in a hug, kissed her.
Mine! Mine, do you hear? Only mine! Hes nothing compared to me. Hes nothing!
I dont think about it, darling. She slipped from my arms. Let things bethis is our little secret, yours and mine. Some things are best left alone, Max. Now, off you go. I have cleaning to do.
I was stung. She wouldnt marry me. How could she?
But even so, before shutting the door on me, she stretched up and kissed me full on the lips. I was slain. If not husband, then at least lovershe was still mine. She thinks of me, I told myself, before sleep, before breakfast, while fixing things for himalways me. Hes the cuckold; Im the real man in her life
After I left, Charlotte cleaned feverishly. Her husband had called in the middle of the night, announcing his early return. He was clever, clever enough not to catch her off guard. Charlotte panicked, aired the place out to cover my scent, but he sniffed out betrayal like a fox.
Whats that stench, Lottie? he barked, dropping his suitcase.
What do you mean? she said, trying to sound confused, wrapping her robe tighter.
Something foul, Lottie. You been up to something here, without me? He looked at her, crouched, unlacing his shoes, then stood up abruptly. It was hard for her to breathe, but she smiled all the same.
Oh, you! I just burned the chicken in the ovenyou can smell it, its gone off! Henry, go wash up, Ill set the table. Coffees ready, the meatballs are donewant me to heat them? Oh, love, let me byI missed you
Henry grabbed her hair, yanked her close, stared into her eyes, then finally let her go, grinning.
I brought you a gift. Try it on! He fished something out, wrapped in a handkerchief. Earringsheavy, with red stones, old-fashioned English settings, a touch tarnished. I said: put them on! Henry barked when he saw her hesitate. She fingered the trinkets, trying not to show fear.
Whats this on them, Henry? Its its she placed the box aside, instinctively wiped her hands on her dress.
Silly! Just your imagination. Put them on, lets have breakfast! Quickly now! He watched her replace her tiny gold hoops with the heavy new pair, then nodded in approval. He loved dressing her up like a doll. Expensive dresses, shoes, necklaceshe even made her sleep in her heavy gold chains, laughing at the tracks they left on her neck.
Ill be around five days, then Im off, he said, picking his plate clean. Business, good business. So, wheres that chicken, Lottie? he demanded, eyes narrowing.
Which one? Her hand shook, spilling coffee. Henry couldnt bear stained tablecloths, a hatred born from his drunken mother who raised him in their rotting houseno one ever cared what Henry ate; he grew up thin, always hungry. He stole food, dreamed of luxurious life, of owning only the best. Thats why he chose Charlottebecause she was the best. She almost married someone elsea handsome young scientistbut he was murdered, a mugging gone wrong, they said. Charlotte was destroyed, ready to end it allthen Henry appeared, spun his web.
Her dad was threatened with prison for theft; with the family close to ruin, Henry offered help, and so, instead of her father, someone else went down, and Charlotte found herself wearing white beside Henry at the registry office, smiling on command.
Even now, she smiled, covering up the stained cloth with a napkin.
The chicken, you cooked. Its not in the bin, Henry said.
Oh, I took it to the skip, you know you cant keep that in the house.
He smirked. Quite rightsome things arent worth keeping.
As soon as Henry left, Charlotte rang for me. She called me at the ice cream factory where I fixed the chillers. Charlotte adored a proper dairy ice cream in a wafer cone. Id always bring her one, feed it to her, licking the crumbs off her sweet lips.
I asked for an afternoon off, citing a dodgy stomach, and went to her right after lunch. God, how I missed her. I craved her love, her burning embrace. She was fire; that day, she was fire againblistering, merciless. She was mine.
Three days I hadnt been home, hadnt called Mum or Dad. I disappeared, ran wildso what? I was young; I needed it.
I only learned about Mum in hospital when I bumped into Dad outside the work gates. He was gaunt, grey, barely a manjust a shadow.
Dad, what are you doing here? I snapped.
Your mums back in, last night, the stomach again. Could you visit? he mumbled, cap twisting in his hands. Dad always wore a cap, greasy with age, year-round.
What hospital? I grumbled, annoyed at having my happy thoughts interrupted.
He gave the address; I promised Id go. He nodded, eyes filling with tears. I saw, but didnt care. Mum landed in hospital so oftenwhat of it? Dont make a song and dance
Charlotte sent me off with food, my sweet, caring Charlotteshe was an angel.
Mum lay on a hard trolley in the corridor, no beds in the ward. She kept retching; the nurse cursed, ordering me to take her home.
Where exactly am I supposed to take her? She needs care! I flared up. And watch your mouthdont you dare talk to her like that, understand?
Mum squeezed my hand, tried to calm me. I couldnt. What a jokethis was a hospital? Who has time for this nonsense? I had a lifeMum spent half the year on the wards; she was used to it.
She ate Charlottes soup slowlysaid it was lovely. I sat, got jostled by doctors, trolleys, checked my watch angrily. Two more weeksthen Henry would be back, and Id lose Charlotte again.
Mum, can you finish up on your own? I blurted, dropping the food bag at her feet.
In a hurry, sweetheart? Yes, yes. Ill be fine. Dad will visit. Dont you worrygo on, she smiled, stroking my hand.
I left. Didnt know the food would be thrown out; Mum couldnt eat it. Didnt know shed still be on that draughty trolley, being abused by a cleaner. None of that mattered then. I only thought of Charlotte.
When I got back, I found her on the floor, crying.
Lottie, whats wrong? I froze in the doorway.
She shuddered, pointing to a pile of jewellery on the carpet.
Henry gave me these earrings. Last time he came. I I tried to clean themtheyre old, tarnished. But on them they she shook again. They’re filthy, Max! Take them out! Out of my house, you hear?! Take them! They shouldnt be here! They frighten me!
She wrapped the jewellery in a rag, shoved it at me.
Go! Throw them in the street, Max! Im scared! What have we done? she sobbed.
Dont be silly! Ill just wash them. Henryll ask. Whats on them? Oh, for goodness sake
I understood. Her husband wasnt shy about bringing in ill-gotten gains. Hed done it before, but thisthese black, mottled stains, like those left by a terrible injury, a mortal wound
I swallowed, sickened, disgusted, as though Id been rolling in dung.
Charlotte! Should we call the police? This is I caught myself. Shed never turn him in.
I left, tossed the bundle over the printworks wall near her house. I didnt see the thin, stooped man hiding in the shrubs. I should have. Hed been watching us for a long, long time.
Henry and his henchmen came at night. Wed barely dozed off, both tipsydidnt hear the lock click or the tramp of shoes.
A blow woke me. In the pitch black, fists rained down. Lottie was screaming, then fell silent.
I tried to fight back; my head ached, my mouth filled with iron-tasting bloodI flailed, missing every punch. Id drunk too much.
Suddenly, the light flicked on. Henry sat in the armchair, eyes on me. Lottie stood by him, eyes shut.
Sorry to intrude, her husband said softly. But Ive come for something. Lottie, lovekiss me. Your husbands home!
He yanked her arm, made her double over; his lips wedged into her face.
Henry please, he Lottie pointed at me.
I dont care, Henry said, nodded, and I got hit again. I tried to dodge, hit backuseless. Id spent my strength on wine and passion that night
Lottie, darling, fetch me your baubles. I need them, love.
Henry walked over. My vision swam, nose and eyes swelling up; each breath cut like glassprobably my ribs were broken.
And you, you little cockroachon your knees, crawl, crawl! he barked at me.
Henry Lottie fussed at the dresser. Leave him. You said I could You werent against it She whispered, holding her robe shut.
He went for forbidden fruit. I dont like him, Lottie. Understand? I dont like him His mothers dying in hospital, and here he issprawled on your sheets. On ours! He kicked me hard. He should look after his mother. I hated mine, but still did my duty, buried her like a queen. And this pup ran off from his own.
How do you? I coughed, spat.
I know everything. I run this place, Max. The whole city. Surprise? Lottie didnt tell you who you were up against? Oh, my poor girl, always picking the wrong ones. He shook his head. I put up with all sorts, but this oneI cant stand.
I slowly lifted my head, looked at Charlotte. My mind reeled: mum, hospital corridor, that shadowy man at the end, the smell of chicken broth she tried to eat, the nurses shriek, the night with Lottie, her sweet nothings Then, Henrys pale blue eyes, glaring down.
Shouldnt have left your mother, Max. You wont see her again, he sneered. I sobbedI was wretched, a fool, about to die
But what could I say to this boy? Charlotte suddenly recovered, stuffing a bag with trinkets. He came to me, I didnt call him. Hes grownnone of my doing. Here, darlingeverything, she handed him the bag.
He took it, checked inside, nodded.
Now, wear those last earrings I gave you, he said.
Oh, they hardly flatter my dressing gown, Henry! Later, later! Charlotte tried to coax him.
I said, put them on! he shouted, firing a gun at the floorsplintered the parquet by my foot.
Charlotte pretended to search, rifling drawers. “She’ll come up with something! She’ll save us both!”
No Henry, theyre not here! I kept them herenow theyre gone. Max took them! She kicked me in the side, I collapsed. You thief! After all I did for your poor mother, you robbed me? Henry, get this awful man out! God, and my watchgone! My grandmothers gold watch. Oh, Max I thought you were honest
Shed given that watch to the doctor for her abortionshe might have had a child with me, but didnt want it. Henry wanted one, but couldnt. He would never have allowed itshe paid the price for her secret. Now, she laid the blame on me.
Henry had his thugs drag me up, make me stand. My memories grow dim here, save for Charlottes shadowy figure behind her husband, while he seemed to break me apart.
I can forgive almost anything, Max, he said out on the snow. Love, bravado, even a straying wife. You think Im faithful? Ive a Charlotte in every house. But I cant abide a thief. Whats mine is mine!
I pressed my battered, boiling heart against the English snow, listening to the car drive off, the wind howling, snowflakes stinging my face. Soon there was nothing but the pounding in my head. And the knowledge that my greatest love had betrayed me. My heart cooled. Perhaps healed.
What happened after, you can guess.
I spent days, feverish, at the gamekeepers cottage. He brought a doctor; together they patched my ribs and musclesluckily my legs werent broken, thanks to Henrys goons. Between them, two strangers, they sewed me up, set me on my feet. I could only mutter thanks; they just grinned.
Youll be fine, lad. Youll run again, the keeper told me.
I finally walked outside three weeks laterblinded by the bright, spilling English sunshine. Snow dazzled everywhere, whiting the fields as hot as a skillet or a river of molten steel. The keeper stuck sunglasses on me.
Go on then, off you go. And next time, dont take whats not yours, boy. You might not get so lucky
While tying my boots, I overheard the pair talking about how much Henry had paid them to save me. I froze, dropped my boot, leaned on the cold wall.
Whats that? I whispered.
Nothing, they shrugged. Henrys a generous sort. Tight, of course, but forgiving. Shame about his wifeshe sells off his gold on the sly, always plans to leave, but when he catches her, she gives lads like you to the wolves. You werent the first; wont be the last. The rich have their peculiarities, dont worry. Just chew what you can swallow, eh? Off you go, Max. Time to move on They patted my shoulder, smiling.
I reached the city by dusk. Headed straight to the hospitalmaybe Mum was still there?
No such patient here, sorry, the receptionist said flatly, the hatch shutting in my face. I must have frightened her.
Please! Check again! I pleaded, banging on the glass, but turned and stumbled home.
The sunset was red, like in the field. Fear knotted in me.
I saw the light in our flat. I breathed out, limped toward the block, rang and rang the bell until the door flew openMum on the threshold, so shrunken, so thin. She stared, terrified. I rushed to hug her, saw Dad behind and burst into tears
We were worried sick, son, Mum said, piling fried potatoes onto my plate. But then a Mr. Henry calledhe said youd had some trouble but would recover soon, said to keep your head down a while, that you shouldnt be seen in town or you might get in trouble
Henry? I stammered, dropping my fork.
Yes. Hes from the Ministry of Health, I think. He even visited me in hospital, got me my own room. Max, thank you for asking him to help! If it werent for him Mum wiped her tears, ruffled my hair, while Dad watched in silence. I couldnt hold his gaze.
Years later, my wife Molly and I browsed the local Christmas market, in search of a decent treeMolly loves the scent of real pine, the needles scattered on the floor, the shining patches of resin if you rub the trunk.
There were plenty of markets. We wandered all over, never finding the right tree.
Lets just look over here, Molly suggested, nodding toward a shabby canvas enclosure. The lanterns cast yellow light over the thinned-out tree skeletons and branches in the corner.
I nodded. Molly touched the branches, when from the darkness came a rough, smoke-roughened voice:
Buy it before you touch! Hands off!
The speaker stepped outa woman in an old padded jacket, boots, a wool scarf over her head. Her face, bare of make-up, was hard and lined; her eyes full of resentment.
I recognised her. My Charlottemy first and fiercest love. The woman who marked me for life. Sometimes Molly would find a scar or other and ask, and Id spin some silly tale. I lied to my wife, because I truly loved hershe was real, warm, honest and kind. My anchor; my true shelter. She was of my rib, sent to me by God. I never wanted her to feel pain.
Charlotte glanced my way, spat. She knew me.
Henry had her there, selling trees in the cold, while he sat in a restaurant drinking champagnenever beating, just outsmarting, always. Shed lost everything, and no more lovers came. The years wore away Charlottes beauty; now she had nothing left to trade.
Lets leave, Molly, I said softly, taking my wifes hand. The trees here are no good. Ill take you to the forest, well cut one ourselves.
Molly smiled. She trusted me. She truly loved me, and I couldnt quite believe I deserved her.
And must I thank Henry for this life? Thank him for telling his men not to finish me? Thin, stooped Henry beat me, made me his debtor for life. Maybe I deserved as muchWe left the market, the bell jingling behind us. Snowflakes drifted through the streetlamp haze, settling on Mollys curls. She squeezed my arm, not noticing my trembling. I glanced back onceCharlotte lit a cigarette, her breath coming out white and quick, huddling deeper into herself as the next customer appeared. Our eyes met, for a momentand whatever we had once shared was gone, a shed skin, fluttering away in the cold winter wind.
Molly tucked her mittened hand into mine. Well find a tree, she said, cheerful, believing, eyes so bright and open that in them I saw not forgiveness, but the chance at something beyond shamesomething lighter and finer. Above us, the church bells chimed the hour. I thought about all the secrets knotted in my chest: the snowy fields, the hungry wolves, Charlottes laughter, Henrys shadow.
The ache of old wounds lingered, but it felt further awayblunted by time and kindness. The city around us was noisy, electric, indifferent. Molly pulled me onward. My heart beat, steady and whole, and I followed her, guided by her trust.
For the first time, I thought: perhaps this is what it means to surviveto carry your secrets quietly inside you, while walking the bright-lit streets with someone who loves you, letting the past stay buried beneath the snow.
I squeezed Mollys hand. And together, we moved forward, leaving ghosts and broken promises behind, the old secrets melting away, one gentle step at a time.
