Page 124 of The Lies We Play

I let him look at the harbor, at the boats, at the snow dissolving before it can become anything permanent.

Then he says, quieter, “Liv asked me once if this was normal.”

I smile. “What did you tell her?”

“That we are, all three of us, well outside normal.”

“Good answer.”

“I also told her not to start measuring now.”

“Even better.”

His mouth curves. “I told her that when she is with you and thinks of me, she should not feel guilty. And when she is with me and thinks of you, I would be concerned if she didn’t.”

I hold very still.

He looks back at me.

“Because when we are with her,” he says, “we are thinking of each other too.”

“That is not disloyalty,” he says. “That is the first honest law of us. No one is loved away from the others. We only ever love each other closer.”

I don't speak for a moment.

I can’t.

Not because I don’t have words.

Because the right ones would change everything.

Halston seems to know.

He waits.

He is good at waiting when waiting is the only honorable thing left to do.

Finally, I say, “That sounded like something you’ve thought about.”

“It is.”

“How long?”

His eyes hold mine.

“Since the first time I met you at the bar.”

My breath leaves me in one slow pull.

“Since the bar?”

“Since you put your hand on the back of her stool and looked at me like you had not decided whether to flirt or fight, and then chose neither because the truth was stranger.”

“I never wanted to fight you.”

“I know.” His voice lowers. “That was the problem.”

I laugh quietly.