Page 24 of Rhett & Moses
“Speaking of form,” I said, my thumb tracing a small circle on the back of his hand, “you clean up nicely yourself. That henley brings out the gold in your eyes.”
A flush crept up his neck, and I was fascinated to see that even after all these years, I could still elicit that reaction from him. “Are you flirting with me, Callahan? Now, of all times?”
“Is it working?” I asked, only half-joking.
His eyes met mine, humor giving way to something more intense. “It always did.”
The air between us charged with possibility, with two decades of want and regret and hope. I leaned in slightly, drawn by that familiar gravity that had always existed between us, and was gratified to see him mirror the movement.
The storeroom door banged open, startling us apart.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever moment you two are having,” Bronwyn announced, not looking sorry in the slightest, “but it’s getting late. If you’re still planning your grand revelation, we should make our way to the award ceremony.”
Moses nodded, releasing my hand reluctantly and standing. “Right. Yes. Thank you.”
I followed suit, straightening my jacket and preparing mentally for what was to come. As we made our way through the bar and out onto the street, I noticed Moses had gone quiet, his expression distant.
“Second thoughts?” I asked softly as we walked side by side toward the school.
He shook his head. “No. Just... preparing myself. This isn’t going to be easy.”
“Few worthwhile things are,” I replied, resisting the urge to take his hand again. The streets of Gomillion were busy with reunion attendees, and while I no longer cared who knew about my sexuality, I understood Moses’s need to control his own narrative for a little while longer.
As we approached the school grounds, I could see a crowd already gathering on the lawn, word had spread, apparently, that something significant was about to happen. I spotted Vanessa near the front, her expression tense but determined. Mayor Hayes stood off to one side, engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion with Principal Bushman.
“Quite the turnout,” I commented, my attempt at levity falling flat even to my own ears.
Moses took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “No turning back now.”
“No,” I agreed, finally giving in to the impulse and briefly squeezing his hand before letting go. “But whatever happens, we face it together.”
He glanced at me, gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes. “Together,” he echoed.
As we made our way through the crowd toward the small, raised platform that had been set up for award reunion announcements, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as though Iwas a young eighteen-year-old again, facing the judgment of our peers. But this time, we were armed with truth and the strength that comes from having built lives outside this small town’s confines.
This time, the outcome would be different. This time, we were ready.
The murmur of the crowd grew louder as Moses took his place at the center of the platform, me just a step behind him. In that moment, watching him prepare to finally unburden himself of the secret he’d carried for twenty years, I felt a surge of pride so intense it nearly took my breath away.
Whatever happened next, whatever storms we might have to weather, I knew with absolute certainty that I was exactly where I needed to be, standing beside the man I had never truly stopped loving, ready to face the past so we could finally, maybe, have a future.
CHAPTER 7
MOSES
My heart thunderedin my chest as I stood on the platform, facing what seemed like half of Gomillion. Familiar faces from high school mingled with townspeople I’d known my entire life, all watching with expressions ranging from curiosity to suspicion to outright hostility. Mayor Hayes stood at the back, arms crossed, a thunderous look on his face that promised retribution.
But beside me stood Rhett, solid and reassuring, his presence lending me strength I wasn’t sure I possessed on my own. And in the front row, Vanessa’s encouraging nod reminded me why I was doing this. Why, after twenty years, it was finally time for the truth.
I took a deep breath, my fingers wrapping around the silver school pin in my pocket, and began to speak.
“Twenty years ago, I confessed to vandalizing the Paul Bunyan statue,” I started, my voice carrying across the suddenly hushed crowd. “Most of you were there. You saw me take the blame, pay the fine, do the community service. And then you watched me remain in this town in disgrace.”
Murmurs rippled through the audience, but I pressed on.
“What you didn’t know, what almost no one knew, was that I didn’t do it.”
The murmurs grew louder. I caught glimpses of skepticism, disbelief, and in a few faces, a dawning realization.
