“I did my best.” Grace said, then turned her attention to Beck with that same open, welcoming expression she’d worn all weekend. “I know you’re recently divorced, Beck. Romance may not be on your radar, but I hope you find someone someday who makes you as happy as Carl makes me.”
“Thank you. I’m sure I will.” Beck tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
Hudson, currently sprawled in the remaining chair, phone in hand and thumbs flying, glanced up and caught Beck’s eye. He flashed an ironic grin—there and gone—before resuming whatever he was engrossed in.
Thank god no one had seen that and the kid kept his mouth shut.
The conversation drifted after that—Seth’s childhood, the brothers’ antics, high school pranks. Beck mostly listened. Watched. Laughed where appropriate. This wasn’t his family. Not yet. Maybe not ever, depending on how Grace reacted when Seth finally told her the truth.
Half an hour later, Carl stood and held out his hand to Grace. “Time for bed, sweetheart. Big day tomorrow.”
Grace hesitated, then took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “You’re right. I should sleep. Don’t want to look tired for our pictures.”
Seth stood as well. “Sleep good. We’ll see you in the morning.”
“Bright and early,” Grace agreed, smiling. “Good night, everyone.”
They exchanged goodnights, hugs, the kind of easy affection that came with family. Beck nodded politely, hanging back, before Grace and Carl headed upstairs.
Seth glanced at Hudson. “Time for bed.”
“Yeah?” Hudson pocketed his phone, then offered a wry smile. “And what about you?”
“None of your fucking business. Now go to your room.”
Hudson dropped his voice. “Yeah, yeah. But a little advice: don’t let her scream like she does at home. She’ll wake the whole damn house.”
Heavenly’s cheeks turned bright red. Beck stifled a laugh as Seth whapped the kid upside the head, ruffling his hair. “Thanks for the safety tip. When we get home, I’ll get you some earplugs. Now off to bed.”
With a one-fingered wave, Hudson darted upstairs and disappeared into his room.
After Seth killed the lights in the family room and ensured the house was secure, Beck followed him and Heavenly up. At the top, they crowded together in the hall. The house was quiet now, just the faint creak of floorboards down the hall as Carl and Grace got ready for bed.
A long pause fell between them. Beck looked at Heavenly. Then at Seth. His chest tightened.
He ached to reach for her. Pull her close. Feel her warmth against him. At least fucking kiss her goodnight.
But he couldn’t. Not here. Not now.
“Well…good night,” he murmured, his eyes saying everything he couldn’t. I hate this. I miss you. I want you.
Heavenly squeezed his hand for just a second, her fingers warm and reassuring, before she reluctantly released it. Then she mouthed a silent Soon.
Seth nodded, his gaze steady, promising. Last time. Never again.
Beck held onto that promise as he turned and ducked into his room across the hall. He closed the goddamn door, the silence pressing thick and stifling around him, and sighed.
Keeping his friendly good-doctor mask on all day had been exhausting. But he’d played his role—Seth’s buddy who’d tagged along for the eventful weekend. And he’d played it well. But now that he was alone, he let everything drop.
God, he was fucking exhausted.
He pulled off his tie, tossed it onto the chair by the window, and started on the buttons of his shirt. His fingers moved automatically, but his mind drifted back to their trek to the house where Seth lived with his first family.
He’d known the facts about Seth’s loss—wife and infant son murdered. Horrific. Tragic. The kind of thing that destroyed people. Beck had felt sadness, empathy even. He thought he’d understood—until he’d seen Seth moving through the house, face so tightly locked down as he’d stared at the remnants of his past… That had driven home the devastation in a way nothing else—especially facts—could express.
In that instant, Beck had finally understood. Time wasn’t the sole barometer of grief. Sure, their deaths had been nearly nine years ago. To him, that had sounded like a long time to mourn. But he’d seen Seth’s face yesterday and suddenly understood the horror and guilt his friend still carried. Maybe he always would. And honestly, Beck couldn’t blame him.
In fact, he worried his friend wasn’t half as healed as he’d claimed.
