Page 59 of The Lies We Play

Livia laughs.

I do too.

Not because it is that funny.

Because it lets the pressure release without disappearing.

Because his delivery is perfect.

Because Livia’s laugh is relieved.

Because I like him.

That thought arrives cleanly.

I like the way he looks at her. I like the way he looks at me. I like that he heard the shape of the offer and didn’t make it smaller, so he could be less afraid of it.

Fuck.

James walks by and points at Livia’s glass. “Another Sprite?”

“Yes, please,” she says, then looks at us with all the dignity of a woman wearing my jersey while sitting between two men she has just possibly invited into a shared emotional crisis. “Hydration is important.”

“Vital,” I say. “You should also add water.”

Halston nods. “Foundational.”

She narrows her eyes. “Don't gang up on me this early.”

“This early,” Halston repeats.

His gaze comes to me.

I hear the question under it.

Early implies later.

Livia hears it too.

Her face warms, but she doesn't look away from either of us. That might be the bravest thing I have seen all night.

I lift my beer.

“To hydration,” I say.

Livia rolls her eyes, but she lifts her Sprite.

Halston lifts his old-fashioned.

The glasses meet softly.

No one says what we are really toasting.

Not yet.

The three of us drink.

And the bar, somehow, becomes the first place I ever understand what a beginning feels like before it has a name.