Chapter 16

Holden looked like she'd struck him.

He was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice had gone careful and deliberate, the way a person speaks when they're choosing not to believe something. "You don't have to do that. I know you're scared. I know you're angry at me. But there's no need to say things that aren't true."

"You said you'd love me forever. How could you have moved on? How could you have married someone else?"

Forever.

She did vaguely remember saying that. She'd meant it then.

It was the year after Abby was born. Quinn had saved a young man's life — a rescue that hadn't been particularly dangerous, but the man had been grateful in that outsized way that occasionally happens. He was good-looking and not short of money, and he'd made the mistake of becoming publicly infatuated with her. He'd rented a digital billboard in Midtown. He'd made the even larger mistake of walking up to Holden and telling him that a wedding ring was just paperwork and children were fine, he'd love to raise them.

Holden had punched him.

It had taken Quinn thirty minutes to prevent a headline.

Afterward, Holden was still furious in that irrational, wound-up way that meant she'd have to talk him down from the ledge or spend three days watching him brood.

"Was that really necessary?"

"He said he wanted to raise my child. My child."

"He said he wanted to take you from me. You're not bothered by that?"

Quinn had given up reasoning and taken his hand instead.

"Holden. We've been alive long enough to know that both of us are going to meet younger people. More interesting people. People who want us. That's just being alive."

"But I'm not going to betray you. I'm not going to betray what we built. And I want—" She'd squeezed his hand. "I want to still be choosing you when I'm old. I'll be choosing you until there's no choosing left."

He'd softened completely, the way he always did when she was direct with him about the things he was most afraid of. He'd brought her hand up to his lips. I choose you too. Always.

Now he was invoking that same promise like a debt.

Quinn looked at him. "Promises go both ways. You broke yours first."

The line landed, and he knew it. He couldn't argue the facts.

"I know," he said, and for a moment he sounded genuinely destroyed. "I know I did. Let me explain — not to excuse it. Just to explain. Serena came back to me with proof the child was mine. I couldn't walk away from that. I thought I could have both — I thought I could fix it. I was wrong about all of it." His voice dropped. "But I loved you. The whole time. She was never—"

"She was never what you felt for me. You're right. I could see that." Quinn's voice was flat. "But you still chose her. Every single time."

He had no answer for that.

"Give me another chance," he said finally, quietly. "Just one."