Page 69 of The Secrets We Built Together

"She's good at this," Billie said, coming to stand beside me. "Has an eye for making a space feel... I don't know, intentional."

I nodded, watching as Blake chatted with Delaney while artfully rearranging a table setting. "She sees things differently than most people."

"Must be the artist in her." Billie leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "It's nice to see you happy, Xander. I've known you since you were pulling my pigtails in grade school. I remember the last time you looked at someone the way you look at her."

I frowned. I didn't recall ever looking at anyone the way I looked at Blake.

"Molly Thompson," Billie supplied, smirking. "Seventh grade. You were completely smitten."

"I was not smitten with Molly Thompson," I argued automatically. "She had braces and used to spit when she talked."

"And yet you followed her around like a lost puppy for an entire semester."

I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. "Your memory is clearly faulty. I think you're confusing me with Gage."

The moment I said his name, the familiar weight of his absence settled between us. Billie's smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly.

"Speaking of lost causes," she said lightly, "when are you going to ask Blake to move in with you for real? Not just this fake-engagement-for-the-baby arrangement you've got going on."

I opened my mouth to answer, and then snapped it closed. How had I not done that already?

She paused, turning back to me with a mischievous grin. "By the way, she invited me to girls' night next week. Hope that's okay."

"Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"I’m not lying to your beautiful fake-but maybe not fake-fiance. I know all your secrets Xander Farrington." She wiggled her eyebrows at me. "Just saying."

And then she slipped away laughing before I could say anything else.

See, this is exactly why small town life got to be too much. Bored teenagers did stupid things, and hopeful adults could never escape that one time they…

I watched as Billie made her way over to Blake, the two of them immediately falling into easy conversation. Blake's head tipped back in a laugh at something Billie said, and I felt a surge of gratitude that they were getting along. Blake needed friends here, people who saw her for the incredible person she was.

"You did good, kid."

I nearly jumped at the sound of Jasper's voice beside me. My father had arrived an hour ago with a truckload of supplies, insisting on helping despite my half-hearted protests. Things between us were still strained, but I was trying. For my brothers, if not for myself.

"Thanks," I said, not looking at him.

"Your mother would be proud."

I snorted before I could stop myself. "I doubt that."

Jasper was quiet for a moment, and I risked a glance at him. His face was thoughtful, eyes fixed on the bustle of activity around us.

"She wasn't always the way you remember her," he said softly. "Before... everything. She used to laugh more. She loved planning parties like this, being the center of attention."

I didn't know what to do with this information. It didn't fit with the cold, critical woman who had shaped so much of my childhood. The mother I remembered had despised disorder, had kept us at arm's length like we were an inconvenience rather than her children.

"I'm not asking you to forgive her," Jasper continued, seeming to read my thoughts. "Just... I hate that she’s the one who became the bad guy in your story. Especially when I was the one who did so much wrong."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Across the room, Blake was showing Amelia something on one of the tables, the baby's pudgy hands grabbing at whatever it was. The sight of them together, heads bent close, pink and gold, was almost too much to bear.

"Your girl seems special," Jasper said, following my gaze.

"She is." The words came out fiercer than I intended, protective.

Jasper smiled, a small, sad thing. "I'm glad for you, son. Truly."

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