40. Lizzie
FORTY
LIZZIE
The house was quiet except for the sound of the TV, where the big clock along the bottom of the screen announced how many minutes we had until this year rolled into the next. It was a matter of minutes.
The kids had dozed off around ten o’clock, snuggled under blankets on the couch. I sat beside them, sipping a mug of hot cocoa, wondering how my own new beginning would pan out.
I wasn’t ready to turn my back on my family. Tonight—and the rest of the week since Christmas—had been a much-needed break from the chaos of family events, but it wasn’t how I wanted to spend my years. I missed the laughter and too-loud conversation of our parties. I missed the little pastry-wrapped wieners my mom brought out around eleven o’clock every year. I missed the bad champagne and the ear-splitting noisemakers that would make all the kids laugh when the clock struck midnight.
But I didn’t want to be the designated babysitter, cook, and maid. I wanted to be me —and it was my responsibility to make that happen.
So as the minutes quietly trickled by, I let myself absorb that reality. There would be work ahead of me. Work to rebuild and restructure my relationships. Work to carve time for myself, and to stop acting like a martyr because that’s where I was most comfortable.
And I thought about Sean.
Things hadn’t worked out between us, but I wouldn’t begrudge him for it. I’d known from the beginning that it would never work between us. Still, he’d made me realize that I deserved more. He’d treated me like a queen—until he hadn’t.
Maybe, with time, I would forget how his hands felt when they coasted over my skin, and I’d be able to smile and make pleasant conversation with him while he integrated into our family.
I’d find my own way to happiness.
It was a bittersweet kind of New Year’s resolution for me. The past couple of months had felt like a rebirth: I’d realized I deserved more. But maybe I didn’t deserve quite as much as I’d thought. I could have hobbies and a life and an identity beyond my children—but I couldn’t have the impossibly attractive man and the nights of passion and sex.
From where I sat, in my comfortable home, next to my sleeping children, waiting for the next year to arrive, it felt like a fair trade.
And then I heard the engine.
Frowning when it cut off, I turned toward the sound of a car door slamming. By the time the knock on the door came, I was standing in the living room archway with my heart thumping hard.
I knew it was him before I opened the door. Don’t ask me how; I just did.
He looked just as beautiful as he always had, with his short hair and turquoise eyes. The lips that had torn my body and soul to pieces parted, and he said my name on a breath: “Lizzie.”
My heart rattled. “Sean.”
He gulped. Tension stretched between us, and I didn’t know how to break it. I didn’t know if I should.
Finally, I cracked. “What are you doing here?”
Sean blinked at me and let out a huff of breath, as if he was asking himself that exact question. He closed his eyes for a beat, then lifted his gaze to mine. “I’m here to apologize.”
“Oh,” I managed through the vise clamped around my throat.
“I pursued you, and then I left you out in the cold when I should have defended you. I left you standing there on your own when the one thing you needed was to have someone at your back.”
I breathed in then out again, motionless. He spoke the words plainly, like he was reading them from where they’d been carved into my heart.
“I hurt you,” he said, his voice hoarse.
My eyes watered, and I nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’m so sorry, Lizzie.”
I let out a noise that was half laugh, half sob. “I’m not sure what I deserve anymore.”
He reached for me, then let his hand drop back to his side. When I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze, his face was drawn. He shook his head and whispered, “You deserve the world. You deserve everything good, Lizzie. More than I can give you.”
I didn’t think there was a part of my heart that hadn’t been bruised until he said those words. It was the confirmation that he didn’t want me, that we would never be together. I’d known it, of course. I’d told myself those very words over and over again throughout the past week. I believed them—or at least I thought I did.
But until Sean spoke them aloud, I hadn’t realized that there was a part of me that hoped there’d be a way for us to come back to each other. That there was some sliver of connection worth fighting for.
But he couldn’t give me what he thought I deserved. He didn’t want to be that man for me.
Knowing this was my new reality, I straightened my spine as best I could and buried this final hurt deep in my heart. “Don’t blame yourself too much, Sean,” I told him, my voice surprisingly steady. “We got carried away. I know the holidays have always been tough for you. We all egged you on to find a New Year’s kiss, and it’s no surprise it blew up in everyone’s faces. I got caught up in the attention you gave me, and?—”
“Lizzie. Stop.”
Blinking, I realized I’d been staring at his throat, so I dragged my gaze back up to his face. Sean’s eyes were wild.
“What?” I said. “You don’t have to—it’s okay, Sean. I’m not going to stand in the way of your friendship with my brother. You taught me a lot about myself, and I’ll always be thankful. But you and me? We’re good. We can just go back to the way things were. You said it yourself; it was a mistake to get involved?—”
“It wasn’t a mistake to get involved with you,” he said, and this time he did reach for me. His hand wrapped around my wrist as he tugged me across the threshold into the cold winter night. “The only mistake I made was not standing by your side when I should have. Not shielding you from the shit your family flung at you.” His free hand slid over my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek.
Confusion swirled around me like stray snowflakes caught in a twist of wind. “What are you saying?”
His shoulders softened. “I’m saying I love you, Lizzie. I love you so much I can’t stand the thought of spending another week without seeing you. You’re my sun. Apart from my son , I mean,” he added, which made me laugh. Sean let out a breath. “The two of you are all that’s good in my life, Lizzie.”
“But—” I blinked at him. My palm rested on his chest, and I could feel the pounding of his heart. “You said I deserve more than you can give me. You were letting me down gently.”
Sean’s strong arms tightened around me, and he let out a short breath. “You deserve more than I can give you, Lizzie, because you deserve the best of everything. Better than I am. But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
The snowstorm inside me settled in a dead wind. My hands slipped up to touch the stubble on his neck as my heart thumped so hard my vision went fuzzy. “You?—”
“I love you. I love all the parts of you that make you a good mother, and all the parts of you that have been hidden away. I love your eye for detail and the way you see the world through your photos. I love your dimples and the darkness of your eyes. I love your body, and your laugh, and your light. I love you so much that I can’t live without you, Lizzie. Please don’t make me try.”
His eyes were like chips of precious stones. Cold wrapped around us, but the heat of his body kept me warm. Behind me, the anchors on the television called out the countdown to ring in the New Year: “Five! Four!”
Sean tilted his head, listening.
“Three! Two!”
His lips curled into a dangerous smile. “You owe me a New Year’s kiss, Lizzie,” he murmured, tilting my chin with the tips of his fingers.
“One!”
Then Sean used his mouth to show me just how much he’d meant everything he said. It was a kiss made of fireworks and dynamite. It set me ablaze, destroying everything I thought I knew about him—and about me. It was a vow, and a promise, and everything I’d been trying to forget about the past week.
It was pure, blazing love, and I loved him right back.
When we pulled away, I was dizzy. His thumb stroked my cheek with gentle tenderness while the arm banded around my back tightened, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting me go but wanted me to know I was safe and cherished in his arms.
And I knew. I knew . This was real.
“Sean?”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “Mm?”
“I love you,” I whispered.
His exhaled breath was pure relief. “Thank God,” he said, and I laughed as he kissed me again. I lost myself in his touch—or maybe I was finding parts of myself that I’d tried to pack away. All the pieces I’d thought were needy and dependent. All the weaknesses I’d tried to ignore while I kept my life together with spit and duct tape.
I didn’t need to hide them anymore, because Sean was here to hold them for me.
“Mom?”
Jumping, I turned to see Hazel and Zach in the foyer, staring at us with wide eyes. Sean kept his arm around me, but I felt him straighten behind me.
“Hi,” I replied.
“Were you just kissing Sean?” Zach asked, nose wrinkling.
“Um,” I said. “Yeah.”
“Are you in lo-ove?” Hazel asked, stretching the word into two syllables.
Sean’s arm tightened around me, and I couldn’t help the smile that stretched over my face. “Yes.”
I waited, breath bated, for my kids’ reaction. They blinked at the two of us, heads tilting in opposite directions as they processed the news.
Then Zach pointed toward the TV as his forehead wrinkled. “Did we miss the countdown?”
A little while later, the four of us decided to head over to my parents’ place to catch the tail end of the celebrations. It seemed right to me to start mending those relationships right away. The ground was steady beneath my feet, and besides, I wanted to see everyone. I wanted to blow a kazoo and have a glass of champagne with my mom. I didn’t need to be stubborn or standoffish. My new beginning might as well start with the New Year.
The kids bounded down the pathway toward Sean’s truck, chattering excitedly. They were wearing their pajamas, winter boots, and jackets, and didn’t seem bothered about missing the countdown—although the novelty and naughtiness of being out and about way past their bedtimes probably buttered them up a bit.
I locked the front door and smiled at Sean. “Ready?”
He nodded but didn’t move. Then he reached into his jacket’s breast pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I never gave you this.”
My brows furrowed as I watched him extend the envelope toward me. “What is it?”
“Your Christmas present.”
I froze. “Oh. No, it’s okay?—”
“Take it, Lizzie. I got it for you before I messed everything up.”
Biting my lower lip, I took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a thick, luxurious-feeling business card with the words Art’s Cove embossed in gold lettering. On the back of the card, someone had scratched out a phone number.
Another peek inside the envelope told me that was it. I lifted the card. “What is this?”
“You know Georgia Neves who owns the art gallery on Cove Boulevard?”
I glanced down at the gold lettering. “I know of her.”
“I talked to her. Showed her some of your photos.”
My gaze snapped up to his. “What?”
A hint of guilt entered his expression. “Just the ones you sent me.”
“You said those were for your phone background!”
His hands flew up, palms out in a placating gesture. “You’re good , Lizzie. And Georgia agrees. She said she’d be happy to cover the costs of printing and framing if you wanted to show a few pieces in the gallery.”
I turned into a fish for a few moments, my mouth opening and closing while nothing came out. Then I glanced at the card again. “What?”
Sean’s low laugh wrapped around me like a warm hug. “I wanted to get one of them printed and framed to give to you with her card, but…”
“Things kind of fell apart.”
He hummed. “Will you call her?”
I ran my finger along the thick edge of the card as the world went unsteady beneath me again. “I…”
“Say yes,” he whispered.
The old me would never do it. It was scary and unfamiliar. It was out of my comfort zone. But I glanced up at his truck, where the kids were clipping themselves into the back seat, then up at Sean’s expectant face.
We were minutes into the New Year, and I felt the significance of the moment in every nerve in my body. It was a new beginning with Sean, with my family, with myself. A doorway leading into the unknown.
Didn’t I owe it to myself to take a step through it?
“I’ll call her,” I promised.
Sean’s smile warmed me down to my toes. He threaded his fingers through mine and tugged me to his truck. We drove to my parents’ house and stepped through the door into a house full of light, laughter, cheers, and the usual, familiar chaos.
My mother was the first to spot us. She let out a cry, then hugged me so tightly my spine cracked. Pulling away with tears in her eyes, all she said was, “You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
“You’re banned from the kitchen,” she told me. “If you pick up a dirty dish at any point tonight, you have to leave immediately.”
Laughing, I nodded. “Deal.”
Her hand coasted over my cheek in a soft, motherly caress. When she did the same to Sean, I knew we were at the start of something wonderful.