Staring at Chase, staring back at me from the other side of the coffee table, I rock back in my seat. "What? Why?"
"It dilutes our power. We're trying to walk in the light, connect with it, be a light in this dark world. It's a lot harder to do that when someone else is—forgive me—dragging us back into the shadows."
The words prickle. My first instinct is to bristle. To tell him what he can do with his judgment. But he holds my gaze, and I see the apology in his eyes.
He's apologizing. Because of something he said. That was true.
I see it then, what it all looks like, what it means, from the outside.
I can't deny that I've dragged him into the dark since the first moment we talked. He's right.
I jump up and walk around the couch so I'm on the other side, the space between the living room and the big window at the front of the house. I'm pacing too. We make a great pair.
