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“Did you want to take a look at that…thing…?” I lie poorly to Hannah, who jumps in with an eager “In the bedroom, yes! Let’s—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Genevieve waves us off, forcing a look that makes us both sink down into our chairs. “I’d like witnesses to what a little bitch Henry is being about all of this. Everyone thinks he’s like, some sort of golden child. Daddy called him a wunderkind the first time he came to my parents’ for dinner. You’re twenty-six. It’s not that impressive. And you’re spineless as fuck, that’s for sure.”

I chance a glance in Henry’s direction, his head hung slightly down, resigned to take it all.

“Now Daddy knows you’re an asshole,” Genevieve continues, “but he’s not going to fire you. He’s an asshole too. He’ll probably like you even more after this.”

Genevieve Karlin, I realize. I was so swept up in the girlfriend of it all that somehow I missed it. Henry works at Karlin Stein. Her father must be the aforementioned Karlin.

That’s messy, even for Henry.

Eventually, after an epic dreidel loss, Hannah retreats to bed, and not wanting to be stuck with just the two of them, I say goodbye to Genevieve and follow suit. Henry catches my eye before I disappear into the bedroom, a pleading look on his face, which I don’t have an answer to.

I slip inside to find Hannah in bed, scrolling on her phone. “Well, that was fucking weird.”

I nod, unsure of what to say. Soon, Hannah is conked out, curled up next to me, emanating an intense amount of heat for such a small person, and all I can do is pretend like I’m ever going to sleep.

Chapter 12

Unsurprisingly, sleep evades me. Eventually, I hear Henry’s and Genevieve’s voices fade, and the front door open and shut, then open and shut once more, several excruciating minutes later. There’s a loud sigh as footsteps pad toward the other side of this wall, and I wonder if Henry will knock. Slide a note under the door. Something. I shouldn’t have to be the one to initiate this conversation.

But my curiosity, my pain, and the realization that twenty-four hours ago we hadn’t even kissed yet prevail, and I slip out of the room to see him.

He sits on the pullout sofa, still in its couch form, elbows bent on his knees, head in his hands. This must be the longest day of Henry Cole’s life, and it shows.

“Never mind, we can do this later,” I say quietly, and his eyes shoot up to meet mine.

“Please stay.”

I rarely remember him looking so helpless in all the years I’ve known him. Maybe that’s why I sit down. Two cushions over, but with him all the same. There’s a low buzz of sharp voices coming from our moms’ room and I glance toward their door before giving him my attention.

“I’m so sorry, Norah. I never meant for any of it to happen this way. This morning.” He pauses. “Jesus, was that only this morning?”

I nod, my mouth twisting against my will at the memory. I know he clocks it.

“That was one of the best mornings of my entire life. Everything that came after aside, I need you to know that. I need you to not give up on this just because today got complicated.”

“Complicated is the word you’re going with?” I ask, and he flinches. “You can talk. I’m not going to ream you out. Seems like you got plenty of that already.”

Henry runs his hand through his hair. “I deserved it.” He takes a long slow breath. “Genevieve works reception at Karlin Stein, her father’s company. We officially met at my interview, but turns out we’d chatted a few times before on a dating app without ever going out. Gen and I weren’t right for each other. It was very obvious that we should’ve never been together. It sounds shitty to say out loud, but it’s true. I had just started this new job, one I’d worked my ass off for, and she was…very persistent.

“I wasn’t going to enter into anything with my boss’s daughter that wasn’t completely aboveboard. But then, going through HR and everything, it added this whole other layer. It made it seem more serious than it was before we even went out to dinner. It put a label on this thing before I knew how I felt about her. Or didn’t feel. I thought I was doing the right thing by not bringing her home for Christmas, that it would send the signal that I wasn’t as…invested as she was.”

His words are familiar. It’s exactly what I did with Rob.

Henry pauses. His eyes are soft and I want to cry, or maybe make a home there. “And then I saw you at O’Hare and knew I was done for.”

This time, when he reaches for me, I let him. His fingers dance with mine over the cushion between us.

“I tried to let you go,” he continues. “I feel like I’ve spent my whole life trying. But if just seeing you glaring at me across baggage claim caused every old feeling I had to come roaring back into my heart, regardless of what, or if anything, happened between us, I had no right to be in a relationship with anyone.” His thumb traces circles across the inside of my palm. “I broke up with her the next morning. I knew doing it over the phone wasn’t ideal, but I never expected her to show up here. I didn’t end things with some master plan to make this”—he gestures between us—“happen either. It just felt unfair. To me and to her.”

Despite his proclamation to the contrary, to you hangs in the air between us.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to let people in?” I ask slowly. “To be vulnerable enough to give someone a way to break my trust, to hurt me? This is why, Henry. I don’t do this. I’m terrible at it. Maybe this is a sign.”

“It’s not,” he says quickly. “It’s only a sign if you’re looking for a way out, and I really hope you aren’t. You can trust me, Norah. I’ll be gentle with your heart.”

It’s hard to face him when I feel this much, but I need to see him when I ask, “No more secrets?”