Check & Mate

I’m sorry. Um— I knew about the clock. But I forgot, and— ” And I’m thinking of stabbing myself in the eyeball with that pencil over there. Is it yours? Can I borrow it?

The moment breaks, my heart slows, and I’m just a girl—perhaps a slightly fawn-kneed one.

Mallory. I came because you did.”

“But I want you, Mallory.”

I make to take it away, but he traps it under his. “Stay.” He leans into me, breath warm, chapped lips against my temple. “You never stay.”

Guilt and responsibility are heavy burdens, Mallory. But they’re also something we can hide behind, and now you can’t do that anymore. You are free to do what you love. Which might be never thinking about chess against and moving to Boulder to be with Easton. It might be becoming an auto mechanic. It might be taking a year off to backpack around the world. It can be whatever you want— but it has to be your decision. Your choice, free of constraints. And to do that, you’re going to have to look into yourself, and be honest about what you want. And yes, I know that’s terrifying. But life is too long to be afraid.”

“I’ve got you, Mallory. Nothing bad is going to happen. You can let yourself want this, because you already have it. You have me.”

Chess is a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Look where it got me.”

“It got you here. To me.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks, but his tone is matter-of-fact, not suggestive. He doesn’t mean it like that. He means . . . I don’t even know.

“Because when I’m with you, Mallory, everything is different. When I’m with you, I want to play more than I want to win.”

It’s on his nightstand, preserved like a trophy. He brought it from Toronto, to Moscow, to his apartment in New York, to here. Warmth spreads in my stomach