A Quiet Kismet

Chapter Twenty Five

AGE 26

Derek stood in front of me, his hand caressing my cheek slowly. I could feel the calloused pads of his fingers and wanted to trace them. But his midnight eyes pinned me into one spot frozen by his question. What was I going to do now?

I was tired of trying to fight it anymore. So what? I liked Derek, maybe I have this whole time. Why ignore that now? Instead of overthinking, I erased the space between us and kissed him. It took him all of two seconds to kiss me back.

The world stopped, music filled my ears, and I was right there kissing Derek. His lips soft and plush moved against mine like a seasoned dancer dancing to the rhythm of a song only the two of us could hear. Soon my hands were raking through his hair, and his hands moved to my lower back pushing us closer together.

It felt like the most natural feeling in the world. Usually first kisses are so awkward. No one knows where their hands are supposed to go, or they're scared that they're using too much tongue and afraid that their teeth are about to crash into each other. But with Derek it was like we were made to be kissed by each other. Like we had found the right pieces to a puzzle.

He moved back and blinked a couple times, a dopey smile plastered across his face. "So does that mean you like me like me?" He asked boyishly.

My hand traced his jaw, my thumb running over the slight stubble. "I've always liked you, idiot." I mumbled and he leaned into my hand and closed his eyes. Then reality came rearing it's big ole head, because even if I did like Derek, I was only here for a weekend."But-"

Derek opened his eyes and shook his head, "Don't. Not yet." He mumbled, leaning his head against mine. He held me closer to him, like he was afraid I'd float away if he didn't.

I wanted to stay rooted in the darkened neighborhood with Derek. I wanted to live out of my head where doubt ruled over my very being. I wanted to believe that we could walk back hand in hand and give five year old Millie the happily ever after she wanted. I wanted so badly to kiss Derek and know that it wouldn't be my last time.

But I lived in my head full of doubts. I knew that nothing was going to change when we walked back to the house. I'd still leave for New York, he'd go back to Gable. I'd work on a book that may or may not be successful, and he'd go back and work for his father or maybe stand up to him and be the caseworker who saves kids.The truth was, it drove me crazy that I couldn't control the future, especially when the odds were stacked against us.

I couldn't let it go farther. We'd both only get hurt...right?

"Derek, you know we can't. It's too complicated." I said, the words wedging a gap between us. "You live here in Texas, and I live in New York. Our lives are vastly different, we're not even the same people we were when we were kids. How do you know we'll even still like each other?" I said moving and wedging the gap between us wider. I needed space from him, he was too consuming. If I stayed with him longer, he would begin the fill in the empty spaces of my head all over again.

He smiled and looked down at my feet. I was wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a wrinkly t-shirt that I borrowed from Delia, my feet in slippers and two mismatched socks poked out of them. "You still wear mismatched socks. For a year straight you wore only mismatched socks and then...you just stopped. Or so I thought." I glanced down at my different socks and smiled. Old habits die hard. I kept wearing mismatched socks for no other reason than it was just easier than finding pairs now, but back then it had been a bold statement to my absent mother. I'm here, pay attention to me, Ruben is gone but I'm still here.

How did he remember that? I barely remembered it myself. "I just got really good at hiding them." I whispered, a smile lingering on my lips. "You know, I only wore them because I really wanted my Mom to notice me. When Ruben left, she just turned into this zombie that stared off into space. I was pissed at her for leaving in her own way, so I wore mismatched socks hoping she'd wake up and tell me to go change. I counted on it."