Page 39 of Margins

His head is still turned in her direction, so he catches all the sincerity in her offer, and it threatens to take his breath away. She hasn’t looked away either, this person who has known him better than anyone else for more than half his life, and she just waits for him to decide what he’s going to do.

She’s not the only one who might be waiting, and Alex sighs at that before he chases the realization with a sip of whiskey.

“His grandpa lived a few streets over from here, died a couple of years ago, and Elijah has been cleaning out his house. I went for a walk when he was having a garage sale, and I stopped to buy a few things.”

“And got one hell of a deal, huh?”

He starts to chuckle at that, but then remembers his goal that morning and laughs a little more. “Funny thing about it was that I actually bought books I was going to give to you for Christmas. Some leather-bound classics.”

Cassidy frowns a little, and it’s still adorable, even now. “But I’m not getting them anymore?”

“No, we, um—” He pauses for a second because as much as he loves her, he won’t give her the whole story. Their story. “Elijah and I found out they were actually really important to his family—his family’s history, really—and then we got to talking about them—his family and who they were and how they loved, and I—I really didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“I didn’t know any of it,” he admits. “Who I am and how I’ve loved. And I know that just sounds like denial, but Cass—you were my everything.”

“Mmmm, no, Alex. I really wasn’t, though,” she argues, so gentle about it. “I was enough, and you thought that was the same thing.”

“And I’m allowed to want more.”

“He told you that?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“Smart man.”

“Among other things, yeah,” he says.

“So, what the hell happened?”

“I don’t really know if anything did. Maybe we weren’t enough of a thing for it to matter yet,” he huffs, knowing full well it’s a lie. They were barely together before they went back to being apart, but something happened in between. Could still be happening, if Alex lets a story from the past teach him anything about the present. “I just—I was wrong for so long. I was wrong and I hurt you and I hurt Elena and I—I don’t want to be wrong like that again. I’m terrified of it.”

She looks like there are a few things she wants to say in response, but she keeps it simple. “And what does Elijah have to say about that?”

“That he doesn’t think I’m a coward, but he’s still sad that I’m afraid. That he’s not mad at me for not telling you guys about him, but that maybe I didn’t make that decision for me. That I should stop thinking of myself as the bad guy when relationships don’t have to have any villains at all.”

“Smart man,” she says again. “And you said you’re terrified of being wrong again, but I don’t think you were wrong the first time. I just don’t think you asked any of the right questions. But then I asked them, and it sounds like Elijah has too, so maybe it’s finally your turn. For what it’s worth, I really, really hope it is.”

Alex rolls the glass in his hand, watching as the ice cubes and liquid collide softly over and over again because it’s easier than looking at Cassidy right now.

“I loved you, you know. Still do.”

“Love you, too, Alex. But don’t stop yourself from falling in love with him just because you’re scared you’ll have to have this same conversation in another 20 years.”

It’s not the longest he and Elijah have gone without seeing each other, but even with Elena at home with him and work still a little busier than usual, Alex has to claw through another week, struggling to keep from looking at the clock and the calendar and the rest of the books he’d bought from Elijah—ones without Peter and Edgar’s story, but maybe ones he should return to Elijah all the same. He supposes it would give him an excuse to stop by Elijah’s sometime, and who knows, maybe Cassidy wasn’t wrong.

Maybe there’s still a chance for more than that.

Cassidy hadn’t left right after their conversation Sunday night, deciding to spend some time with Alex and Elena right there on the couch, a bowl of popcorn shared among them. They’d been careful not to touch—careful not to mislead Elena about anything—but it might not matter for long anyway, Cassidy having told Alex that she’d like to invite Michael to have Thanksgiving dinner with her and Elena. Alex had agreed easily, though he can’t stop thinking now about the fact that it only gives him one more reason to want to sleep straight through the holiday instead of showing up at his parents’ house, even as she’d nudged him again to listen to all her good advice.

But Alex knows he needs to listen to her, and he needs to listen to Elijah, and he needs to listen to himself, maybe just this once, because he’s finally allowed himself to want, and he hasn’t figured out how to stop.

In the end, he doesn’t have to do much except pick up the package waiting on his doorstep when he returns home from work on Friday afternoon, Elena right behind him with another week of school conquered, small hands wrapped around the straps of her backpack.

“Did you order something?” she asks.

“No, I—it was dropped off here, not mailed,” he mumbles, hurrying to unlock the door so he can read the note tied to the top. “How about you go upstairs for a little bit before we head out to dinner? You have those new library books you wouldn’t put down this morning before school.”

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