Page 336 of The Lies We Play

Fitz’s voice softens. “Halston, what happened today in that courthouse should have happened ten years ago. I’m sorry it took this long.”

Halston doesn’t answer.

His face is doing something my hand can feel through his.

The tremor isn’t visible.

It’s there anyway.

I say, “We’ll call you tomorrow, Fitz.”

“Call me whenever. I’ve cleared my week.”

The call ends.

For a moment, nobody speaks.

Then Halston says, “I should have⁠—”

“There was nothing you could have done differently,” Creed says, crossing the room with his phone still in his hand.

“I should have stopped.”

“They would have caught us on the road,” I argue.

“We shouldn’t have gotten in the car.”

“They would have come for us,” I say. “The moment they figured out we got married, we were in danger.”

“We should⁠—”

“Hal, babe.” Creed moves toward him, slow enough not to crowd him, certain enough to make him stop. “I need you to take a breath.”

Halston looks at him.

Creed kneels in front of him.

For all the pacing, all the calls, all the controlled fury, this is where Creed becomes quiet. This is the man underneath the athlete, the public face, the armor. This is the man who knows Halston can survive almost anything except being left alone with his own guilt.

“You can’t blame yourself for being born into the Saint Claires,” Creed says.

Halston’s mouth twists.

He looks down at Creed, and for one second, I see the man from the courthouse again. The man who remembered rain. The man who turned to Constance and finally understood what she had done to him.

“She almost died.” His voice cracks on the word died, and he hates it. I know he does. “They threatened you and your family.” He swallows hard. “We lost ten years of our lives, and those assholes made my life a living hell. I bet they enjoyed it. I bet they got a kick out of treating me like I needed them instead of the other way around.”

He pulls his hand from mine and stands.

The loss of contact is immediate.

Cold.

He starts pacing.

“This is my fault.”

“No,” the word comes out louder than I intended.