***"Something always brings me back to you***
***It never takes too long***
***No matter what I say or do***
***I'll still feel you here***
***Until the moment I'm gone." - Sara Bareilles***
***Alissa Blake***
Having Holden in my apartment seemed like an absurd idea just a few days ago. Now, with him there, cooking as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I felt ridiculous. Like I was still that fifteen-year-old girl—awkward, insecure, painfully aware that he was out of my league.
But the difference now was that he didn’t see it. Holden never did. What he saw was the confident shell I wore as armor, the sarcasm that kept any vulnerability at bay.
The truth, however, was that while he stirred the pasta in the pot and hummed something inaudible, I felt like a child pretending to be an adult. And he, with all that effortless charisma, seemed so at ease.
“All done,” he announced, placing the improvised plate of pasta on the table as if he’d just won a culinary contest. “I hope it’s good enough for you, miss.”
I smiled faintly, trying not to show that I was more nervous than I should be.
“Let’s see if you deserve the title of chef,” I replied, picking up a fork and taking my first bite.
To my surprise, it was good. Not just good, but genuinely delicious. The sauce was perfectly balanced, and the pasta had that ideal consistency I could never get right.
“Okay, Young, you’ve earned some points,” I admitted, trying not to sound too impressed.
He smiled like it was the kind of compliment worthy of a prize, always so easy to please.
As we ate, the conversation flowed more naturally than I expected. Holden had this special knack for making things feel… normal.
It was different from when I was alone.
“You know, it’s strange to think about how much of each other’s lives we missed,” I said, staring at the empty plate in front of me. “Years ago, I never would’ve imagined you cooking. I can’t picture how you survived college without your maids.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Years ago, I didn’t even know how to boil water,” he admitted, a nostalgic tone in his voice.
There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like we were both diving into memories that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. I wondered if I’d ever be able to recall them with only happiness.
“I wish I’d spent the rest of my teenage years learning new things with you,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in my chest. It was typical of Holden to say things like that—straightforward and full of emotion, without caring about the impact his words had on me. He was fearless, and it annoyed me.
Maybe because I wasn’t brave or honest enough to say what I was thinking out loud.
“We always got along, even though we argued constantly,” he added, breaking the heavy mood with an easy smile.
“We argued because you were nosy,” I retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Still are.”
He let out a laugh, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. For a moment, it felt like the weight of the past had vanished, leaving just the two of us as we were before everything fell apart.
We were on the couch now, both relaxed, with a random movie playing on the TV. I was acutely aware of every movement Holden made, of the warmth radiating from him, but I didn’t want to admit the effect it had on me.
Then I felt his touch. His hand found mine casually, but there was nothing casual about the way my heart reacted.
This time, I didn’t pull my hand away. I didn’t retreat. I just let it happen as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And, to be honest, it felt that way. That was what unsettled me.
Eight years had passed, but when we were together, it felt like days.
And then, as if the universe had a particularly ironic sense of humor, *Pride and Prejudice* started playing on TV. *No way.*
Holden laughed, pointing at the screen. I turned as red as a tomato and wanted to crawl under the couch.
“Remember this? It was the soundtrack of our first time.”
I laughed too, shaking my head. “Oh, yeah. Super romantic, Holden.”
“Hey, wasn’t it?” he asked, pretending to be offended. “You were all emotional.”
“Me?” I crossed my arms, feigning indignation. “You were the one practically crying during the lake scene.”
He shrugged as if there were no shame in it.
“The lake was symbolic.”
We laughed together, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. I allowed myself to relax, to forget the weight of everything we had just talked about.
But then nostalgia caught me off guard.
“We were so innocent,” I murmured, not realizing what I was saying. “But… I’m glad it was with you.”
He looked at me, surprised, and I realized I had said something more emotional than I intended. So, as always, I turned to my usual Alissa-style fix. Or made it worse.
“I mean, it could’ve been way worse. Imagine if it had been that jerk Boyle, the one with the ice cream cone body?”
He laughed, shaking his head, but there was something different in his eyes now. Something more intense, more… primal. Who would’ve thought talking about sex with my first boyfriend could feel so awkward?
We stared at each other for a moment. The lines from the movie filled the room, leaving no space for silence to creep in. Holden caressed my hand, squeezing it slightly tighter.
I could feel his breath against my face even though we weren’t that close, but the heat emanating from his body made me think of things I tried to ignore. However, before it could go any further, three knocks on the door snapped us out of the trance.
The sound echoed through the apartment, cutting through the moment like a knife.
I turned toward the door, my heart racing.
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked, his tone cautious.
I shook my head, unable to take my eyes off the door. I never had visitors—like, never. I didn’t have friends or family, not something I’d put on a résumé, but I knew I shouldn’t expect anyone.
I prayed it wasn’t Greg, showing up uninvited to reminisce about our disastrous and short-lived relationship because the timing couldn’t be worse. Then, two more knocks.
I was starting to get scared, so Holden took charge and got up.
And just like that, what seemed so simple turned into something else—something I didn’t know how to expect.