Page 355 of The Lies We Play

“Again.”

“I’m happy.”

His eyes lift to mine.

“Hal.”

I know what he’s asking.

I feel the old instinct rise, the one that wants to make the moment neat, private, unprovable. The man I used to be would have arranged his face before answering. The man they made me into would have doubted the sentence before it left him.

The man sitting in Liv’s kitchen knows better now.

“I’m happy,” I say.

Slowly.

Without dressing it up.

Without making it smaller so no one can take it from me.

Liv opens her eyes.

Creed exhales.

I say it again because my therapist says repetition can teach the nervous system what truth feels like when it’s allowed to stay.

“I’m happy.”

Today, I know I am Halston Wolfe Saint Claire.

I am theirs.

I am happy.

We have a home, it’s the three of us. More than one house, but the buildings are just shells. Juniper Ridge, when Creed needs the center, and the rain, and his father is close enough to argue with. Florence when Liv needs the institute, old stone under her feet, and sunlight that turns dinner into a painting. Portland when the offices move, when I build my work around the two people I spent too long trying to find my way back to.

It won’t be simple.

Nothing that mattered to us ever was.

But for once, I don’t need the future to promise me forever.

It is enough that tonight, in a kitchen too small for the life we keep building, the three of us believe it can hold.

Want to read Luther’s book?

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A dead man’s secrets. Two best friends. One love too dangerous to keep hidden.

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If you enjoyed The Lies We Play, check out another of my MMF books: LOST IN OVERTIME

Two Rivals. One Woman. No Choosing.