State of Alliance by Summer Lane Page A

private. I mean…isn’t prayer sacred?
    “What are you doing here?” I ask.
    “I was about to ask you the same thing.” Chris begins walking inside the church, pausing at the basin of holy water. And then he passes it and continues to stalk toward me. “What’s wrong with you Cassie? Leaving the compound without telling me?”
    “I’m a Commander,” I reply. “I go where I want.”
    “I noticed .” Chris stops at the tip of the front pew. A muscle is ticking in his jaw, a sign that he is very, very angry. “You have a reason for running off in the middle of the night with your security detachment?”
    I swallow, choosing my words carefully.
    “I just had to get out for a second, Chris,” I answer. “I needed… this .”
    “What? Prayer? Faith?” Chris shakes his head. “You don’t need to leave to find that, and you certainly don’t need to leave with Devin to figure out where your head is.” He stops. “If something was bothering you, why didn’t you come talk to me? You can always talk to me, you know that.”
    I give him a look.
    “You haven’t been terribly accessible lately.”
    “I’m not the one who’s been having the communication problem,” he replies.
    I open my mouth, a thousand retorts dancing on the tip of my tongue. I could tell him that yes, this whole thing is his fault. He’s keeping secrets, he won’t tell me he loves me, and he’s been cold since I cornered him about his marriage on the train to Monterey.
    But I say nothing, because sometimes that’s the best thing to do.
    “So what’s the issue, Cassidy?” Chris demands.
    His eyes are ringed with red, a sign of sleepless nights and crushing pressure. He is not himself. The Chris I fell in love with is patient and kind, gentle yet firm.
    “What’s not the problem?” I say. My voice echoes in the church. “We’re at war .”
    Chris considers this, then holds out his hand.
    “ You and I don’t have to be,” he answers slowly.
    I lean on the wall, flickering candles throwing shadows across our faces.
    “I don’t want to fight with you,” I say. “But I don’t want to force you to tell me things that you don’t want to share. I can’t be everything to you all the time. I get that. I just want to be your friend again, at least.”
    As the words leave my mouth, I get a bitter taste in the back of my throat.
    “We’re a little more then friends, Cassie,” Chris replies, and he smiles nervously. “You don’t have to be dramatic.”
    And that’s when I see it: fear.
    There is fear in Chris’s eyes.
    “Why are you afraid?” I ask. “If you don’t want to lose me, tell me . If you love me, tell me! Keeping secrets and holding back words that need to be said will never help anyone, Chris. Sometimes you have to say something, or the moment will be over, and it will be too late. ”
    He doesn’t move, seemingly frozen in place.
    I wonder if I’ve said too much – gone too far.
    Chris shakes his head, as if laughing at a private joke, and takes several steps forward, hooking his right arm around my waist, sliding his left hand behind my neck, into my hair. It seems like it has been an eternity since he has held me, and I press against him, forgetting the argument for a moment.
    I just want to be .
    Chris’s body is warm, and I feel comfort in his embrace. A thrill rushes down my spine. My fingers and toes tingle with the excitement of being so close to him – it has been a long time.
    He kisses the side of my neck, a soft, warm touch. I wrap my arms around his neck and he draws me into a sweet, slow kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that eats you up. The kind that you feel in the pit of your stomach, inthe bottom of your heart. The best kind of kiss; real, true and perfect.
    It’s Chris.
    He hooks his fingers through the belt loops of my fatigues and holds me closer. I taste the coffee on his breath and feel the stubble on his jaw, scratching my lips.
    “Cassie,” Chris breathes, kissing my cheek. “My