“God.” The laugh that cracked out of him was caustic. “There it is. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I don’t—” His smile was bitter and not, she felt, entirely meant for her. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to keep chasing things that are already gone.”
Her entire body was a pulse,bah-dum, bah-dum, bah-dum.
Fingers flexing, he said, “I need you to give Liam something for me.”
“Okay.” Her heart raced much too fast. She was spinning out like a top.
I love you, he’d said.I love you.
Fishing in his coat, he drew out the small package she’d seen in his pocket. Instantly, understanding blossomed. It was the pale powder blue of newborns, of nursery walls and footie pajamas, of swaddles and snuggies. Of a little child in a mirror world who would never meet his uncle.
“It’s just shoes,” he said, dismissive—as if she’d judged him. “I didn’t know what to get. I don’t like babies.”
“That’s okay.”
Carefully, he pressed the box into her hands. “Will you give it to them?”
She closed her fingers around the edges but didn’t take it. “Why not you?”
“I can’t.” The look he gave her was packed full of grief. “Please, just help me with this one last thing. And then I’m done.”
He’d never looked more wild, more desperate, more afraid. It made her afraid, too, to see him this way. Cold, calculated Colton Price, who always had an answer for everything. His tie was coming undone and there was snow in his lashes and he looked, for the first time ever, entirely too human.
“I want to be someone whole,” he whispered.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
She left him there at the edge of the market, caught beyond the reach of light like a lingering specter. Tangled up in shadow and haloed as he was by the dark, he looked the way the dead did—watchful and silent. Waiting for her to look back. The edges of him were winter dusted and cold, and he seemed to her like some pale, deathless king.
You are beginning to understand,sang the voice, crinkling through her like paper.
Her stomach was caught in an endless free fall. She pushed into the crowd, seeking out the couple they’d tailed all through the winter-bitten streets of Boston. She found them at a candle shop a few tents away, taking turns smelling the various bottled scents before setting them back atop their neatly stacked pyramids.
“Excuse me,” she said, drawing close. She felt supremely ridiculous. But it was such a small ask, for such a big hurt. The couple turned to her, caught up in a private laugh, their eyes bright and their noses pinked from the cold. For an instant, they looked uncertain whether or not she’d meant to speak to them. She cleared her throat. “Are you Liam Price?”
Colton’s brother frowned. “I am. Do I know you?”
“No.” She could feel Colton’s stare boring into her. “No, you don’t. Look, I’m sorry to be so forward like this, but I have something for you.” She held up the little box. “It’s from a friend.”
“A friend,” Liam Price echoed. This close, she was further struck by his likeness. He had Colton’s curls, Colton’s jaw, Colton’s nose. Only the eyes were different, a warm, honeyed brown where Colton’s were perennially cold. Reaching out, he took the box between gloved fingers. “What friend is that, exactly?”
“I—” She faltered, wishing she’d rehearsed. “It’s someone who means well.” She drew back, feeling as though she ought to say more, unable to summon the words to navigate this scenario with grace. Casting about for something sensible to say, she managed to stammer out, “Congratulations to both of you.”
And then she fled, plunging into the bundled throngs of customers without looking back to see if they’d follow.
When she reached the edge of the market, Colton was there. He looked different than when she’d left him. Gone was the disarray, the slight edge of panic. In its place was a quiet grit she didn’t quite understand. He watched her approach him like a bridegroom, his lapels ornamented in fast-melting flakes that shone like diamonds in the light.
“I think I weirded them out,” she said once she’d reached him. The cold was a wall. It bit through her tights. Colton only smiled.
“You did great.”
“But—”
“Perfect,” he insisted, drawing her into him. Leaning down, he pressed a champagne-stung kiss to her mouth. It swam through her in a dizzying swill, until she felt drunk on it.
Lacing her fingers over the nape of his neck, she rose up onto her toes until they collided in the golden-laced dark, the snow spiraling around them in fat, spotlit flurries. The sound he made at the impact was low and dark. It pooled deep in her belly. It wound around her bones.
It was a while before they came up for air. He smiled down at her, his eyes shining like ink.
