Page 136

Everything else happenedtome and was out of my control, but my treatment of him was a choice. And those choices are my biggest regrets.
For hours, Jace and I take turns playing chess against his grandpa. We would’ve gone on for hours more if Robyn hadn’t returned to tell us, “It’s time to say goodbye. Your group session’s about to start, Marty.” She turns to us, motioning toward the chessboard. “You can leave that there. We’ll pack it up.” And then she walks away, leaving the three of us alone.
Jace stands to help Marty out of his chair, and I get up to say goodbye. Marty runs a hand down his clothes as he looks between us, his eyes wide, clear of the uncertainty he walked in with. Then he reaches up, his hand cupping Jace’s face, and I can see the moment the tension leaves Jace’s shoulders, the moment he presses into his grandfather’s touch. My heart swells, grateful that he at least hasthis—no matter how short-lived it is. Marty glances at me, and with his other hand, he repeats the same gentle sentiment. I smile through my anguish and force the tears away. “How long have you two been married?” he asks.
I choke on a gasp, keep my eyes on his while Jace answers for the both of us. “We’re not.”
“That’s a shame,” Marty says, his hands still on our faces as he continues to look between us. “You know… one day, I was just like you. Young, full of life, with my entire future in front of me… and then I blinked. And I now I’mthis. Old, staring out of a window, looking at nothing… nothing but the past I left behind.” He drops his hands, focusing on Jace now. “You want my advice, Isaac?”
I canhearthe change in Jace’s breathing. The way it stops. Then stutters. “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t blink.”
And then Marty turns to me, both hands on my cheeks now. I force myself to keep it together while he leans forward, presses his lips to my forehead. When he pulls back, his eyes hold mine. “He’s a good man. An honorable man. A kind man who will protect you, and love you, and take care of you. You sayyeswhen he asks, okay,Kiera?”
Tears fill my eyes, and I take his advice—I don’t blink. “Yes, sir.”
84
Harlow
Jace is silent on the way to the car, and I’m too busy trying to hold back sob after sob. I wipe at my tears, unable to see straight. And ifIfeel like this, I can’t even imagine how Jace is feeling.
It’s one thing towantto walk away from a man who hurts you, but it’s another to lose a man wholovesyou.
I wait until I’m behind the wheel, Jace next to me, my breaths now calm enough to ask, “Are you hungry? I’m sure we can find somewhere good to eat around here.”
Jace is quiet for so long, I’m almost scared to look at him. But I do. He’s already watching me, his eyes holding more pain than I know what to do with. “You know how to play chess,” he deadpans. “Your dad taught us.”
I shrug. “Yeah, but your grandpa doesn’t know that.” I try to smile, but it’s weak, and Jace just continues to stare at me. I shift in my seat, clear my throat before asking, “So… food?”
He turns away, facing the windshield. “I just want to go home, if that’s okay?”
Nodding, I put the car in gear, pull out of the spot, and spend thehour drive home in silence. Jace doesn’t speak until we get to our driveway, saying, “Just park at your house. I think I could use the walk back to mine.”
I do as he asks, and he gets out first, then rests on the hood of my car, waiting for me. I take my time, gathering my belongings, my thoughts, my words. I still don’t know what to say when I stop beside him, mimicking his position.I’m sorryjust doesn’t seem to cut it.
He’s the first to break the silence. “The other day…” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat before continuing, “When you said you still had love in your heart for me… what did that mean?”
It meant that I want to give him all of me, all the time, but I fear it won’t be enough. Not for him. And not right now. My exhale comes out shaky, my inhale the same. “Whatever you want it to mean, Jace.” I push off the hood, unable to hold in my tears anymore. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I make it two steps before his hand lands on my hip, and he turns me to him, holding me close, and I release a sob right into his chest. “It’s okay,” he soothes, and I hate that he’s comforting me when it should be the other way around.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, pulling away slightly to wipe the wetness off my cheeks, but he beats me to it.
“Breaks my damn heart when you cry, Harlow.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I sniff back the pain, the longing.
He holds my face in his hands, like his grandpa had done, and for the longest time, he just looks at me. My eyes. My nose. My lips. He takes it all in, as if memorizing every inch. Every dip. Every curve.
“What?” I choke out.
He smiles, the saddest, most desperate smile I’ve ever witnessed. And then he pushes forward, so slowly, I think my heart might stop. He settles his forehead on mine, our staggered breaths merging between us. “You’re beautiful, is all.” Then he groans, dropping his head to my shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
A chill skirts along my flesh when he releases me—sinks into my veins until it finds its way to my heart. He’s paces away when I finally find my voice. “Jace?”
He turns, continues to walk backward toward his house. “Yeah?”