Written with Regret (The Regret Duet #1)(67)

His hand holding mine as he guided me through Hell.

They were memories of Caven Lowe—the fifteen-year-old boy who had protected me with his own body before he’d ever known my name.

Tears welled in my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “Please. No more crying.”

Using my free hand, I pointed to my eyes. “Good tears.” Turning my hand over, I curled my fingers so the tips of his locked with the tips of mine. “Life isn’t lived as a whole.”

His forehead crinkled. “Huh?”

“We aren’t given a hundred years all at once. Time is doled out one very manageable second at a time. If all you focus on is the big picture and worry about tomorrow, you lose the happiness that can be found in the seconds.” I covered our linked fingers with my other hand. “Thank you for this second, Caven. And for all the other ones you’ve given me in the past.”

Shaking his head, he breathed, “Jesus, Hadley. Don’t thank me.”

“I am. And you’re going to take it without feeling guilty or being filled with regret. Because, for this second in time, we’re going to be happy. Okay?”

His handsome face softened as his gaze held mine.

And we just sat there. Holding hands. Staring at each other.

Living in the second.

Happy.

Well, at least we were.

“Aw, man!” Rosalee yelled. “The ghost ate me again!”

Caven smiled first, bright and wide, and mine followed almost immediately.

The loss of our connection as he pulled his hand away was staggering. The hollow ache left behind morphed into laughter—another second I’d always remember—as he lifted his hand in the air, signaling to the waiter as he called out, “We’ve got a birthday in the house. I need three brownies over here to start.” Humor sparkled in his eyes as he turned his gaze back on me. “And one side of ranch dressing.”

There were a lot of laughs over dinner that night. First, as Caven and Rosalee pretended to gag as they watched me dipping the corner of my brownie in ranch with each bite. Then as Rosalee chanted “Ew!” as she made Caven’s and my pizzas with the gross stuff—which turned out to be sautéed onions, mushrooms, and red peppers. Caven paid for dinner, but neither of us were in a rush to leave, so by the time we finally stood up from the booth, it had been over three hours and twenty dollars spent at the video games.

Hands down, it was the best birthday I’d had in over a decade.

At that point anyway.





HADLEY


I’d just finished washing my face and changing into my white tank top and baby-blue sleep shorts when my phone pinged.



Beth: If you don’t answer my texts, I’m sending a team of Navy SEALs out to search for you. They might be birthday strippers though, so I’m not sure how effective they will be.



I plodded out to my kitchen to grab a bottle of water before bed.



Me: I’m alive. I just got home a few mins ago. No strippers needed.

Beth: How was your night with Caven?

Me: Do you really want to know?



A banner notification fell from the top of my screen.



Caven: Did you get home okay?



Dear. God. My heart. He was checking on me.



Me: I did. Thanks again for dinner, and the brownie, and especially the ranch.

Caven: Let’s not mention the ranch again, or I’m going to be the one dry-heaving this time.

Me: Who said anything about dry-heaving?



Beth’s message slid down on a notification. I read it without switching conversations.



Beth: Yes. I want all the perverted details. Including, but not limited to, what side he was tucking to tonight.



I was laughing as Caven’s reply came through.



Caven: Rosalee is planning an elaborate surprise birthday party for you tomorrow. Spoiler alert: It won’t include glitter, bath bombs, or llama fur.

Me: One, awwwwww. Two, llama fur?

Caven: She thought it would make a good decoration for the table. Kind of like confetti but hair shaved off a filthy barnyard animal.

Me: That sounds like perfection, so now I’m seriously disappointed.

Caven: Please don’t tell her that tomorrow. She’ll have me hopping the fence at the zoo with a set of clippers before the cake is served.

Me: Oh! There’s going to be cake! What kind?

Caven: As soon as we got home, she barged over to Alejandra’s and asked if she’d help her bake one in the morning. I overheard something about funfetti.

Me: My favorite!!!

Caven: Any particular salad dressing dip you’d like to request?

Me: French goes with funfetti. Now, if it was red velvet, that would be thousand island.

Caven: Stop it. Stop it right now.

Me: I’m kidding.

Caven: Good. I might actually be able to sleep tonight.



Another message notification slid down the top of the screen.



Beth: Hello! I’m waiting.



She could continue waiting too. I typed out another message to Caven.



Me: Me too. Thanks again for tonight.

Caven: You’re welcome. See you tomorrow. Act surprised.