I understand him, maybe more than I want to. “I get it. Really, I do.”
Loving someone is a gift, fragile and rare, and Alec knows exactly how precious it is because he’s lost it. In truth, I wish I could ease his grief. But I’m also grateful—grateful he and Sam have each other. They share a love that will carry them through. Their bond, their devotion to Bas, will keep them standing when the rest of the world feels too heavy.
“No apologies needed. I understand. And I want you to know—I have no intention of hurting Sam. I love him. I’ll take care of him.”
Alec’s eyes warm, but there’s a glint of something searching behind them. “My sweet girl, I know you believe that from the bottom of your heart. It’s clear as day, in the way you look at him, the way you talk to him. But how does that work?”
I frown, unsure where he’s going with this. “What do you mean?”
He sighs, his expression gentle but probing. “You live in Toronto. He’s here in Montreal. How do you build a life together when he’s not planning on leaving this place? Are you prepared to uproot your life for him?”
The question sinks in, steady and heavy, unsettling everything I’ve tried to keep neatly contained.
I stare at him, speechless. The truth is, I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ve been living in the present, trying to hold Sam together, to holdmyselftogether. The idea of choosing—between the life I’ve built and the man I love—feels impossible.
32
SAM
“Sam?” Olivia’s voice carries softly from the front door, followed by the shuffle of shoes and the low murmur of her kids’ voices echoing through my loft.
I splash cold water on my face, letting it sting. The chill brings me back, if only for a second. Meeting my own reflection in the mirror, I barely recognize the man staring back—tired eyes, an empty expression that hasn’t quite mended since Bas died.
On a long, shaky breath, I steel myself, digging deep for what little energy I have left.They’re here. I can do this.
It’s been five weeks—five long, disjointed weeks since his death. Olivia’s been here every weekend since. She never waits for me to ask. She just…shows up. It’s how she loves—quietly, steadfastly.
Truth is, I haven’t been capable of much. I cook, I work, I sleep. Repeat. But with her here, even for a few days, the air in my home feels different—warmer, lighter. Still, today feels different. I’m not sure I’m ready forallof them.
“Hey.” My voice is rough as I step out of the bathroom.
They turn in unison—Olivia, Drew, and Paige—three different versions of solace, each smiling at me with something I haven’t seen in a while. Uncomplicated kindness.
Paige’s eyes are bright and curious and Drew’s a little uncertain. And Olivia…she looks at me like she always does, like she sees the man underneath the grief.
She crosses the room first, slipping easily into my arms, and the tension in my body breaks on contact. Her warmth, her scent, the way she fits. It’s everything I didn’t know I needed. She tilts her chin up and brushes her lips against mine, a soft, fleeting kiss that saysI’m here.
“Hey.” Her smile is small but real.
Before I can respond, Paige launches herself at us, her hug sudden and tight. It’s dramatic, yes, but also…perfect.
Her arms circle both Olivia and me, and I can’t help but chuckle, the sound foreign but good. I breathe her in—vanilla shampoo, something floral—and for the first time in days, my chest eases.
“Hey, Paige. I’m glad you’re here.”
She looks up, eyes wide and sincere. “I’m so sorry about your father. Mom told us about him. I wish we’d met him.” Her voice falters, unsure if she’s said the wrong thing.
I cup her cheek and glance between her and Drew, who’s hanging back near the doorway. “He would’ve loved meeting you. Both of you.”
Drew offers a small, awkward smile, but it’s genuine. “Thanks for having us.”
I nod, emotion pressing against my throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
And as I say it, I realize it’s true.
Having them here—Olivia, Paige, Drew—feels like the first real step forward. Like a little light breaking through the fog.
We’re spending the weekend at Alec’s. He and I could both use the distraction. Maybe a bit of laughter, a few reminders that life is still happening around us.
