Ten Thousand Raindrops Between Us

For the school anniversary, Christian Cobb was invited back to give a speech. While he was clicking through old photos, his finger landed on a video by mistake.

There he was at eighteen, the evening wind in his hair, grinning straight into the camera as he made his confession.

"From now on, every painting I make is for you. Only you."

"I love you. Heaven and earth as my witness."

Gasps rippled across the rows below. Half the room turned to look at me, eyes full of envy.

"From high school sweethearts to married. That's too sweet!"

The next second, the camera flipped, freezing on a girl's flushed cheeks.

The face on the screen wasn't mine. It was my best friend, Stephanie Fox.

For that name, the Christian Cobb of those younger years had told me too many lies to count.

He sent me to the copy room to fetch test papers so he could ride his bike and take Stephanie down to the riverfront to watch the sunset.

He told me to wait at home for him on the weekend to watch a movie, so he could go to the theater with Stephanie and see the artsy film she loved.

He lied to me about the fall trip so he could spend a whole day at the amusement park alone with Stephanie.

Christian stepped up and closed the video, explaining with an even face, "Sorry. Hit it by accident."

But before he tapped it off, his gaze held on the screen for several seconds.

In those few seconds, the boy of eighteen was smiling with nothing held back, and there was only one person in his eyes.

The thirty-year-old man standing under the spotlight now was steady, restrained, not a crack anywhere.

I thought of the night we got legally married, his lips on my forehead.

"Miranda Young, everything in the past is behind me now. From now on, I won't lie to you again."

But Christian, how is it you've lied again?

…

During the Q&A, a bold underclassman lifted her microphone.

"Chris, could you tell us about your first love in high school? I heard it caused quite a stir back then."

The hall went still for a beat.

Christian lowered his eyes and tapped the desk twice with his fingers.

"That's all in the past."

His voice was light, like he was discussing some old news that didn't matter.

But the microphone was sensitive, and that faint sigh he hadn't meant anyone to catch carried through the whole room.

"You have to look forward."

A murmur rose around me.

My phone buzzed in my bag.

I looked down. A text from Stephanie.

【Mira, I'm back.】

I turned the phone over and pressed it screen-down against my knee.

When the speech ended, Christian came down off the stage. I stood and caught up, and the two of us walked out of the hall side by side.

"That was an accident earlier. I already deleted the video."

I was about to speak when my phone buzzed again.

"Free to get dinner sometime? It's been so long. I never even gave you two a wedding gift. Let me make it up to you!"

I looked down and replied to Stephanie. 【Sure.】

When I looked up again, Christian was already two meters ahead.

In my memory, there were always two meters between us.

When it was the three of us, Christian always walked shoulder to shoulder with Stephanie, and I trailed behind.

Stephanie said she wanted to go up to the rooftop, so Christian went up to the rooftop with her.

Stephanie said she wanted a latte, so Christian skipped the last study period to go buy it.

Wherever Stephanie went, Christian followed.

I was like a shadow, two meters behind the two of them.

Later Stephanie went abroad, and I thought we'd finally walk side by side.

But we never did.

"Miranda."

"What are you spacing out for?"

He'd turned back to call me from up ahead.

The red glow of the anniversary banner washed over his face, softening his edges.

For just a moment, I half-saw the seventeen-year-old Christian.

The boy who'd climb the school wall to buy roasted chestnuts because Stephanie said one word,

the boy who'd break someone's brow bone to settle a score for Stephanie,

with a fire always burning in his eyes.

But now his gaze was calm and mild, and nothing could stir it.