Page 84 of When We Were Young

“Thanks for helping me coordinate all of that. I do appreciate it.”

“It’s not a big deal. We have connections, obviously, in the industry, and I know finding someone to do massive ovens like that isn’t easy.”

“Yeah, definitely not. I was losing my mind before you started helping me. Speaking of...”

I glance down at my coffee mug and run my index finger along the rim. I don’t look at him, and suddenly I’m nervous. I need to know things from him that I’m not sure he’ll bring up if I don’t. But here goes.

“Why are you doing all of this after the way we left things?”

He says nothing for long enough that it makes me glance up at him.

I can see emotions passing over his face, but I can’t figure out if he’s sad or happy or whatever.

“I... I guess I was just so surprised to see you when you got here that I behaved really poorly, but the longer you’re here, I realize how much I missed my friend. The people we were in the library, what we had between us, I’ve never stopped missing it. I’ve never stopped missing you.”

I’m aware that I’m staring at him now. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve thought about those early days of getting to know each other in the library and yearning for it again. My throat tightens with emotion, and I turn my gaze and body away from him. It’s too hard to look at him right now.

“Oh, okay,” I mutter.

A few seconds pass before he speaks again.

“Is it? Do you think it’s okay that we lost everything that really mattered?”

I hesitate and slowly force myself to meet his pensive gaze. The question is loaded, and I know he doesn’t really expect an answer. Emotions whirl around inside me, fighting for first place in my heart and thoughts: hurt, longing, jealousy… even love. I compel myself to answer, even though it’s so hard and my lower belly is tight with anxiety over having this conversation.

“It’s not okay. But it happened, and it transformed us. At least it did for me. A lot has happened since then,” I whisper.

“Yeah. I can see that.”

“Life changed us, Holden.”

“I’m sure.” He looks into my eyes, and for a second, I see the boy I loved. But then he’s gone, and it’s almost as if I can see him erecting walls around himself to protect his heart. He leans, elbows resting on his knees, his head looking downward. “Is he Simon’s father?”

“Is who⁠—”

“Lizzie, come on. You know who I’m talking about.”

Yes, I do. He’s talking about the man who threatened his future.

“No. He’s not.” I whisper.

“Did you... Did you marry him?” His voice shakes, and I hate knowing that I’m the cause of his angst.

“I stayed with him for a few years because—well, I just had to. And then, a few years later, actually, he proposed to me, but I said no. Anyway, he’s not Simon’s father.”

He turns his head to look at me.

“Is it wrong of me to be happy about that?” He offers me a sad smile. “But even if he were, your son is amazing, Lizette. You’ve done a great job. But I’m happy to know he doesn’t have Landon Carter’s blood flowing through his veins. I guess I’m maybe not as happy to know—okay, I’m downright unhappy to know—that you had someone else that you were involved with enough that you had a child together. You made an amazing child with someone else. I know I have no right to be upset that you moved on, so please don’t misunderstand me.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m trying to unpack his words.

He sits back up and then rests his head on the back of the couch. I’m already doing the same. I twist my head so I can look at him for a few seconds. He’s objectively gorgeous—he always has been. But there’s a softness—not to be mistaken for weakness—that radiates from him. It feels like… safety. Like a place to rest for a while and not have to worry about all things in life that weigh on me.

“Simon isn’t my biological son,” I whisper.

He whips his head toward me.

“Do you remember my friend Sylvia? The one who had the fairytale romance I used to joke about with her high school boyfriend?”