Chapter 43
George picked up the teapot. “More?”
“Oh…no, but thank you.” Colby waved a smile that direction like a young prince’s banner: utterly genuine about the thanks, appreciating begrudging hospitality with honest sunshine. “I know we did drop in on short notice, and I’m very sorry about that. I know how important solitude is.”
George Forrest shifted in his chair. Considered Colby’s smile. Uttered, “Aye, well…no need to fret over it. You mean well, and that’s the end of it. You say what you came to say. I’ll listen.”
Every time, Jason thought. Every damn time. Sorcery.
And that was hisother half. His Colby. He smothered delight in a bite of cake.
“About the ending.” Colby set down his teacup, leaned forward, shoved back interfering strands of hair. “It’s beautiful, the way the book closes—it’s so powerful, and so painful, but in a splendid way, a way that says they loved and lived and that mattered, even if Stephen died too soon—I love it. I always have.”