Page 86 of When We Were Young

“Holden?” Shelley’s voice comes over the intercom. “You have an add-on appointment in about five minutes.”

I take a deep breath before I respond because I don’t want Shelley to hear the disappointment in my voice.

“All right. Who is it with?”

“Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I can’t tell you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t tell you. I pinky promised.”

“Shelley, what the heck is going on out there?” I ask. I can’t help but chuckle.

“Sir, I was told a pinky promise is the worst kind of promise to break. So, bear with me, and your appointment will be back shortly.”

“All right. Fine.”

I slip my backpack off my back and set it on my desk, then slump into my chair.

This ought to be good.

I’m tired today, and all I want to do is go home and have a nap before my brothers come over.

I know that I’ve done this to myself. Staying up through most of the night a couple days ago threw my sleep pattern off, and I haven’t been able to adjust since.

Still, I’d do it all over again since it’s the first real conversation Lizette and I have had since she moved here.

I’m struggling to reconcile the Lizette I’m getting to know again now with the one I remember in such vivid detail from the end of that school semester all those years ago.

Now, she reminds me more of Lizette from the library. And with the benefit of maturity on my side, I can look at the end of us and think that maybe there’s more to what happened than I’m aware of. Yet I can’t figure out what it is. Anytime the subject of our college years even remotely comes up, Lizette looks notably uncomfortable and changes the subject.

Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about something that makes her feel bad.

I don’t know.

I don’t want her to feel bad about the past. I genuinely want her to be happy, to have everything she dreams of. I think I always did. I never believed that ending our relationship and resuming one with Landon Carter was what she wanted. I knew her face, her eyes, from our hours between the stacks, and she didn’t look happy or at ease whenever I saw her with him.

Plus, I’m not innocent either. I’m so ashamed to admit it, but I can’t deny that letting her see me with someone else was, at least partially, because I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. I suspect I thought it would make her come to her senses about us. What a dumbass I was.

A heartbroken dumbass, but still a dumbass.

I lean my head back on the headrest and stare up at the ceiling. I’m lost in thought when someone clearing their throat brings me back. I look up, and it’s my nieces.

With a tote bag she’s carrying as if it’s a briefcase in one hand and her other hand grasping Lena’s, Layla walks into my office. I grin. This is a nice end-of-the-day add-on appointment.

“Hey, it’s my favorite girls,” I say.

Before I can even stand, Lena has ripped her hand from Layla’s and runs over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I lean down for her.

“Hey, Sweetie Petey.”

She giggles, and it’s damn adorable.

Layla has made her way around the desk as well and gives me a hug before returning to the seat across from me.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I ask.

Lena has decided to stay on my lap.