“Always,” Alex had whispered.
Then he typed another, to the community art center downtown: “I’d like to apply for the teaching position. I don’t have a degree in art, but I know someone who did. And I can learn.”
He turned and walked off the bridge, not away from the edge, but toward a different one. The rain began to lighten. Somewhere, a train whistle blew—not the old tracks, but a new line, running somewhere he’d never been. flashback original
“You’d catch me,” Leo said softly. It wasn’t a question.
Alex had inched forward. Not to the edge, but closer. Leo was the only person who could do that—pull him out of his own cautious orbit. They’d been friends since freshman year, a mismatched pair: Alex the accountant-in-training who color-coded his notes, Leo the art major who painted murals on abandoned buildings. “Always,” Alex had whispered
The rain on Alex’s face felt different now. It wasn’t cold anymore. It was just water.
“Come on,” Leo urged, patting the space beside him. “The view’s better from the edge.” And I can learn
Leo had laughed so hard he nearly lost his balance, and Alex had grabbed his jacket sleeve. For one electric second, their eyes met. Leo’s were the color of the river—deep green-brown, full of things unsaid.
“You were wrong,” Alex said out loud, voice cracking. “My whole life isn’t a waiting room. It’s just been stuck on pause.”
“The fall’s better, too.”