My eyes returned to Holden, who’d folded his arms over his chest. His jaw trembled as he sucked in his upper lip, and he turned away from us to wipe at a tear.
“Son—” Ren started.
“Leave it, Dad. I’m fine,” he said. He uncrossed his arms, then crossed them again. “How long has this been going on?” he asked, lifting his chin at me.
“Since the opening of the Meeting House,” Ren answered, keeping his gaze on his son. “We only saw each other a few times after that but reconnected recently.”
Holden’s eyes widened, and his chest hitched. Beckett moved to touch him, but Holden stopped him with a gesture. “So,” he said, his breath ragged. “You didn’t even give Pops a year.”
I took Ren’s hand, knowing how he’d been struggling with guilt over allowing himself happiness again. Beckett, with a stubborngleam in his eye, stood in front of Holden, waiting until they made eye contact. “Hold, baby. Grief looks different for each person,” he said, resting his hands on Holden’s folded arms.
Holden shrugged off Beckett’s touch. Over Beckett’s shoulder, he sent me a glare that probably shaved a few years off my life.
Ren tilted his head, redirecting Holden’s focus as he kissed a muscle on my arm. “Major has been here for me, Holden. Also, according to Pops, I’m running behind schedule. He knew I worked better with a partner.”
“Dad. Major’s younger than I am. Do you want him to go through what you went through?”
Ren rubbed his chest as if he’d taken a direct hit. I liked to tease him about our difference in age because it never truly bothered me. I hadn’t considered his side of the equation, or the fact that, if we were both lucky enough to live into old age, I’d lose him well before my time would come.
“Son, you’ve seen my grief. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” He looked up at me, chewing on his bottom lip. “But I don’t think I have any choice in the matter.”
Even in this awkward, painful situation, his words wrapped themselves around my heart. Those same words, however, made Holden’s face fall.
“You did have a choice to be honest with me, Dad. But maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.”
“What does that mean?”
“For one, I havenotseen your grief,” he said, jutting his chin out. Defiant like his Pops. “Maybe at the beginning, when youcouldn’t hide it, but now I only get to see the brave front.” He paused, shaking his head. “You almost never let me see you cry.”
Ren stiffened beside me. Holden wasn’t wrong.
“That was not intentional, Holden. I wasn’t actively keeping that away from you, I promise.” Ren stopped, looking down. “I should’ve let you in, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t.”
I thought he’d let go of me at some point and go to his son, perhaps offer him a hug. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned to press his face into my chest, his shoulders trembling.
I wrapped my arms around him, comforting him as best I could. I chanced a look at Holden and winced at the sadness and confusion in his eyes as he watched his father cry from three feet away. God, this was so, so hard.
I took a slow, deep breath and was heartened to see Holden follow suit, even if it was an unconscious response on his part.
“In our own way,” I began quietly, “we each fought this. I’m not one for relationships—or, at least, I thought I wasn’t. Your dad wasn’t looking for anything serious, either. And he could never replace your Pops. He wouldn’t even try.”
I went quiet after that, letting the Paige men work through their emotions.
After a moment, Ren pulled away and wiped at my tearstained shirt. “Sorry,” he choked out.
“Baby, it’s fine.”
Holden startled at the endearment, and I ground my teeth, cursing myself for not doing a better job of hiding how much I was in love with his dad.
Ren straightened his shoulders, spotted the box of tissues on the table behind one of the couches, and picked it up before returning to my side. He held the box out to Holden first, who seemed surprised to find that he was crying. He took a tissue and blotted the tears from his cheeks.
Ren did the same and delicately blew his nose. Were we not in the middle of a family crisis, I would have found it incredibly endearing. Hell, I found it endearing anyway. Then he put the box back on the table and resumed his place at my side, leaning against me with his arm around me. Whatever he needed to say, he clearly needed my support. So I gave it to him, unreservedly.
“I was in agony, and Major was there for me. Like he said, neither of us wanted anything serious, and being with him took the edge off the sharpest part of the pain. Then I started developing feelings, and that left me so guilty I pushed him away. We were apart for over six months, and now we both know we don’t want to stay away from one another anymore.”
The living room went quiet as his words sank in. I’d needed to hear those words for a different reason altogether.
“Do you really think Dad would’ve approved of this?” Holden finally asked, his tone more even.
