Simon’s POV

“I’m sorry,” I said softly after his sniffling finally died down. We hadn’t sat there long, but I’m sure his sinuses would feel very congested later. “I’m sorry for the things I said and the way I left.”

He shook his head as his fingers traced circles along the back of my hand as we had done before. “I should be apologizing.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “No, I didn’t think about how this would affect us.”

“You couldn’t have known,” he mumbled. “We did this to be happy, and it just… didn’t work out the way we planned. And I said some things that weren’t true and made you even more unhappy.”

“We both did.”

With his eyes fixated on the ground, he let out a faint hum. 

“But,” I started. “As I said in that letter, I knew you needed time—knew that you weren’t completely ready, and I pushed you too far. I was scared you were slipping away again, and I thought holding onto you tightly would keep you from falling. But that wasn’t the case. I needed to let you figure things out on your own, even if that meant being away from each other. In a way, I guess it did help in sorting out this whole mess of emotions.” 

“But—“

“It wasn’t easy—goddess, it wasn’t—and I wondered if we were really doing the right thing, but I don’t think it’s made this—us and the bond— any less than what it is.” I looked up at him earnestly. “At least for me, I know what I was doing wrong and why it made things worse.”

His eyes narrowed. “Wrong? How could you have been wrong?”

I squeezed his hand. “I needed to be patient, Vince. Instead of worrying about the future—about our bond, the pack, even the idea of mating—I practically abandoned what I needed to focus on. On you, the present. Michael had just died, and I was asking so much from you. I didn’t think about what you were feeling or how everything affected you. I was selfish to think that everything would be fine after Michael died, that we could just have our happy ending right then and there. It was exactly how I was when I was sixteen—I didn’t stop to think about what you were feeling.”

“You were patient,” he insisted, shaking his head. “Extremely patient, even now. I mean, you waited years, Simon. You had a right to be selfish—you had a right to want those things. I was the one that—”

He sucked in a breath before continuing, “I was scared to tell you how I felt, and that only held you back. You weren’t pushing me any more than I was resisting.”

“In the end, we both got hurt.” The way his eyes fell to the floor made my heart ache. 

“And now you’re back,” he mumbled, slowly raising his gaze. “Are—are you staying?”

“Well, I’d have to get my things from the apartment, but I’m sure Sam wouldn’t mind dropping it off either. It’s more than just a bag this time, but I don’t think it would take more than one trip to bring it all here.”

His face flushed. “I meant today.”

“Oh.” It was my turn to look away, embarrassed. “Yes, then. And the day after and after that if you want.”

He let out a heavy breath before looking towards me. “I’d like that.”

A small smile spread across his face as he held my hand firmly, glancing down at them intertwined between our chests. Slowly, I pulled our hands up to my lips, kissing his knuckled before looking up at him. Whether it was because we were holding hands or from the bond itself, I could hear his heartbeat race as his eyes looked to mine, enthralled in the gesture. 

I smiled at that, amused at the gentle expression, before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’d like that too.”

His hands loosened in mine before reaching up to settle on the spot my lips had kissed. “You mean that?”

I nodded before patting his hand on his cheek. “But, we can take it slow this time. No rush, no pressure, nothing. We’ll just take each day as it comes.”

“With no regrets,” he muttered to himself as if the words reminded him of something. “As difficult as that is.”

My head tilted to the side slightly before looking into those blue eyes of his. “We all live with regrets, no matter how small. It’s a matter of working past that, retraining the brain almost.”

He blinked before a soft smile spread across his face. “Arthur said something like that too.”

“Arthur?”

“My…” He paused. “My father’s mate. I met him while I was gone.”

“His mate? He’s alive?”

He nodded. “I was shocked too; he’s doing well.”

“Is that where you were?”

Vince nodded again. “He told me about my father, about the things he did. Explained why our packs were at odds all these years. He explained why my father did those things to us growing up and the pack.”

He continued, “he did these terrible things to him, to us. It just made so much sense, but it made me realize that….”

He bit the bottom of his lip as he looked away. 

“You’re not like him,” I said, sensing what was weighing on his mind. Gripping his hand in mine, I looked up at him again. “You’re two different people.”

“I know,” he muttered. “I wish I had known about this sooner. Things would’ve been different.”

My lips pursed into a pout as I reached my other hand up to his face, bopping his nose with my index finger. “No regrets, remember? You said it yourself.”

He smiled before taking my other hand in his. “You’re right.”

“Aspen invited us to dinner, by the way.” I rubbed his knuckles in my hand. “I’m sure Rowan would love to see you.” 

He nodded. “I bet he does.”

“He absolutely adored your gift; he hasn’t let it out of his sights since that night. “I nudged his side. “Plus, I think Jonah and Lilah also miss their uncle too.”

“I’ll never get used to being called an uncle.”

I laughed. “Neither could I, and we aren’t even related to them.”

“Jonah actually looks a little like Xavier when he was younger. I think it’s the cheeks.”

“Oh, definitely,” I said. Both of their cheeks were pretty squish-able, even Lilah’s, too, now that I thought about it. In a way, they both had similar personalities, too, with Lilah’s sense of humor and how flustered Jonah gets with other people. 

“Speaking of Xavier, we should go before he eats all the food,” I joked before glancing at the bouquet next to us. “That is if you’re ready.”

He reached for it, fixing some of the leaves and flowers that got a little smooshed. He stood up to place it near my parent’s stone before looking at me softly with a nod. 

“I would hope he learned not to stuff his face at his age. But then again, he stress eats, while I forget to eat when stressed. Both are unhealthy.”

“Yeah,” I agreed before retaking his hand. As we headed out of the garden and front yard of my old house, a few people had waved to us. Vince had tensed a few times from noticing them but squeezing his hand seemed to distract him from it. 

Vince cleared his throat. “I still can’t believe Xavier had the brains to steal one of my letters and send it to you.”

“I was just as shocked. More so when I found out Sam was in on it and helped him.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think he’d pull off something like that. And to drag someone else in on his plan? I’m not even sure why he would go through all that effort.”

“Right?” I said, exasperated before gesturing to our hands. “But I guess it did work, in some mysterious way, bringing us together again, I mean.”

He tilted his head. “Well, I’m sure he didn’t expect it to take us a couple of years, nor expect me to run at that party.”

“Yeah, he was pretty worried—we all were.”

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He nodded as we continued walking, their house not too far from here. “About that letter… The one Sam gave to me.”

I remembered exactly what letter he was referring to; unlike Xavier, Sam had told me about his plans to give it to him at the bar. Sam had asked me if it was alright to give it to him himself, given that we both had doubts that Vince would flip out if I had gifted it to him instead.” Yes?”

“You meant every word?” He said sheepishly. “In that letter?”

“Of course I did.” I had written from the bottom of my heart while drafting it. I knew stating these feelings and emotions directly to Vince would have been too much for him at the time, given Sam’s idea of writing a letter back to him instead. 

He sighed in relief. “Thanks—for everything, really, for what you said. It meant a lot, made me understand things better, and I think it did help me these past couple of years.”

“I’m glad it did.”

“I’m sure the letter Xavier sent probably was a train wreck of a letter. Probably didn’t help you at all.”

“No, I think I needed that. It helped me a lot too, Vince. Did you mean what you wrote in yours?”

He nodded hesitantly. “I did, but I don’t know what I wrote in the one he gave you. Xavier refused to tell me. But I’m certain what I said must’ve been true, or what I felt in that moment, at least.”

I hummed playfully. “I remember it distinctly, saying if you love something, to set it free.”

“Oh,” he said in relief before working it out in his head. His cheeks grew pink. “That letter.”

“That wasn’t the only letter Xavier sent me, by the way.”

He paled. “What?”

“There were quite a few he sent me. But there was a couple that really stuck with me; ones I appreciated.” With a smirk, I poked at his cheek as we approached the steps to Sarah and Aspen’s home. “You said you were mine in a couple of them.”

He blushed then, quite visibly. I laughed as he looked away, not hiding it well at all. He was almost as flustered as Xavier gets during a kitchen mishap. “Did I really?”

“Yes, and I’ll have you know,” I said before leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I’m yours too, Vince.”

He stepped back as he sucked in a breath. I could hear the pounding of his heart again as he glanced at me in shock. I didn’t have time to tease him for his surprised face as the door opened behind me. I could hear Rowan’s tiny footsteps along with his parents, who came out to greet us.

“Un un!”

Patting his shoulder, I grinned. “Come on; our nephew can’t wait for us to join him.”