Page 138 of When We Were Young

“I love you, Lizette. I didn’t do those things back then, and I’m not doing them now. I won’t ever. I love you.”

“You’d be better off⁠—”

I cup her face in both hands and move closer to her, my eyes boring into hers.

“If you’re about to finish that sentence with anything that implies I’d be better off without you, you’re wasting your breath. There’s no question in my mind that you and Simon make my life infinitely better. I want a future with you both. I want us to be a family.”

Her eyes widen as if she didn’t know this already. And perhaps she didn’t. Maybe I need to do a better job making sure she understands how I feel.

“Do you really mean that?” For the first time since I got here tonight, I see something brighter in her eyes—hope.

“Of course, I mean that. I mean it with every fiber of my being. This isn’t one of Georgie's books with a third-act break-up. We’re not doing that again. I should never have allowed him to take you from me all those years ago, and I’m not letting him do it now.”

Relief washes over her face, and I hate that the prick made her doubt us.

“He’s nothing. And you’re everything. He doesn’t have any power over you any longer. Okay?”

She nods.

As if the weight of the world has fallen off her shoulders, she melts into me and lays her head in the crook of my neck, her arms curled around me.

“I love you,” I whisper the words near her temple.

“I love you, too.” Her voice shakes. “I was scared, maybe still am a little, that what he said was true, and you won’t stay. That I won’t be enough for you to stick around. But I’m going to give this my all. You’ve already shown me that you want to stay, and no one has ever done that for me. Not like this.”

“I promise you, I'm not going anywhere.”

We embrace, silent as we hold each other. No words are needed right now.

Just when I think she might have fallen asleep, she whispers, “Holden?”

“Mmhmm?”

“That’s not all he said.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Holden

Hayden sits in his favorite chair with three glasses of our favorite whiskey and one can of ginger ale on the table in front of him.

“Wow, you’re first to get here,” I comment.

“Well, it’s about time,” Hayden jests. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

I’ve noticed lately that the gloominess he’s carried for so long seems like it’s receding a little.

“You thirsty?” I ask. I gesture to the multiple glasses of whiskey on the table.

Hayden grins—it’s his classic Hayden amused smile I haven’t seen in a long time.

“It’s for you guys. I figured I’d be a nice brother and pour you all a glass.”

He leans forward and picks up the ginger ale, then settles back in the chair. He looks relaxed.

I choose the chair next to him—as I always do—while we wait for Harrison and Henry to arrive.

There’s an elephant in the room—a good one. And seeing as he’s my twin, I can’t stop myself from bringing it up.