Page 36 of In Another Time

When we finally pulled apart, the front door creaked open, and an older woman stepped out. “Lenny, would you like to invite your friend inside?” she asked warmly, her face lighting.

“Omir, Mrs. Anderson.” I greeted her with a polite nod and a handshake. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. You’re staying for lunch, right?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Oh, he’s not staying.” Lennox cut in quickly, her voice a little higher than usual.

“Nonsense,” her mother said, waving her off. “Son, do you know your way around the kitchen?”

Lennox shot me a look, her expression a mix of annoyance and something else I couldn’t quite place. “I do,” I said, surprising even myself. “I have a passion for cooking and good food in general.”

“Well, then, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” Mrs. Anderson beamed and disappeared back inside, leaving Lennox and me standing on the porch.

She crossed her arms, giving me a pointed look. “You didn’t have to say yes.”

I shrugged, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “Your mom’s hard to say no to.”

She huffed but didn’t argue, turning and walking inside. I followed her, wondering how the hell I’d ended up here—and low-key glad I had.

LENNOX

It had taken everything in me to congratulate Omir on being engaged. Every polite word that left my lips felt forced, like my heart was working against me. Deep down, I didn’t mean it—not entirely. Seeing him again stirred up feelings I’d worked so hard to bury.

It wasn’t just the lingering chemistry or the way he looked at me, though that didn’t help. It was everything—the weight of our brief history, the memories of what could’ve been, and the undeniable pull that always seemed to draw us back together, no matter how much time passed.

I couldn’t deny it. Seeing him on the porch, his presence filling the house like he belonged there, made me ache in a way I didn’t want to admit. The way he hugged me earlier, it lingered. His touch, his scent, his quiet intensity, it all lingered. But noneof that mattered. He was engaged now, and I had no place in his life beyond polite pleasantries and distant memories. That was what I told myself, anyway.

From my spot at the dining room table, I could hear him laughing with my mother in the kitchen. The sound was warm, genuine, like they’d known each other for years instead of a couple of hours. I turned slightly, catching a glimpse of them through the doorway. Omir was leaning casually against the counter, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder, while my mom stood beside him, stirring something in a pot.

“You cook like this often?” Mom teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Not as much as I’d like to anymore,” he admitted, grinning. “But I can hold my own in the kitchen.”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” she said, chuckling. “You better not be all talk.”

They both laughed, and for a second, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He looked so at ease, so comfortable. It was unsettling—how natural he seemed here, in this space that was supposed to be mine, surrounded by the people who knew me best.

“Lennox.”

Lorna’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to find her standing behind me, arms crossed, and one eyebrow raised.

“What?” I asked, blinking.

She tilted her head toward the hallway. “Come here for a second.” I hesitated, glancing back at the kitchen, before following her out of the room. Once we were in the hallway, she crossed her arms again and gave me a pointed look. “Okay, who is the fine ass man in the kitchen with Mom? Because I know he’s not just some random friend.”

I sighed, leaning against the wall. “His name is Omir. He’s. . . someone I used to know.”

Her brow furrowed. “Used to know? Like, how?”

“Like. . . we were involved,” I admitted, keeping my voice low. “It was a while ago.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, her tone skeptical. “And now he’s just randomly here, making jokes with Mom and helping with lunch?”

“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “I ran into him recently, and we’re just catching up. That’s all.”

“Catching up?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Lennox, the way you were watching him. . .”

“I wasn’t watching him,” I cut in, heat rising to my cheeks.

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