Page 211 of Cross Checked
Right.
The marble.
The lost Never.
The thing I had bought with shaking hands and too much hope. The thing I had held so tightly while I made my way toward him, toward something real, toward maybe not being a coward for once in my life. I had wanted to give Cade a piece of my world that wasn’t only pain. A piece of the weird, sacred, broken-beautiful way I had survived all that shit and still found him. Wanted him to know that if my mom was here, she would have been my first call after he left me this morning. The only way I could honor that was with my Nevers.
And Luke had taken that too.
My eyes burned.
“I hate that it’s gone,” I admitted, and my voice didn’t sound like me anymore. It sounded small. Honest. Serious in a way that made my skin feel too tight. “I hate that he got to touch that marble and take my moment. I hate that I was finally doing something brave and selfish, and now I don’t even have it to give.”
Cade’s expression changed. Not softer. Deeper, as if the words had gone somewhere inside him and found all the dangerous places.
“He didn’t get the moment,” he said.
My eyes lifted to his.
“He took the marble,” Cade said, voice low and controlled, “or maybe you lost it. He didn’t take what it meant or the moment. He delayed it because he’s a fucking loser on a tantrum.”
My lip trembled, and I hated it. “That sounds dangerously close to emotional intelligence from you.”
“I’ll deny it.”
“You should. It’ll ruin your brand.”
“My brand survived you calling my face emotionally manipulative.”
“Barely.”
His thumb slid over my knuckles again. “You’ll find another one.”
“It won’t be the same.”
“No,” he said. “It’ll be better.”
I frowned, which hurt, so I immediately stopped. “That is a bold claim from someone who doesn’t understand advanced marble theology.”
“I understand you.”
The room went quiet.
I hated when he did that. Just walked straight through the jokes like they were decorative curtains instead of load-bearing emotional architecture.
“You’re doing it again,” I whispered.
“I know.”
My throat tightened, but he didn’t smile this time. Didn’t tease. Didn’t act smug. He just looked at me with that awful certainty that made me feel seen and cornered and safe all at once.
“You’re the queen of cool marbles,” he said. “You’ll find another one. You’ll make it mean something because that’s what you do. You take the worst parts of your life and turn them into something beautiful enough that people don’t realize, at first, they’re looking at survival.”
My eyes filled again.
“Cade.”
“I want one you pick after this,” he said. “Not before.”
