Chapter Three
Emmet
It’s a week before Thanksgiving. Everything at the bar is going well.
The guys have accepted me, for the most part.
They’re wary but aren’t mean or rude. Most of them are helpful and friendly, actually.
They’re definitely nosy, asking me all sorts of questions that are too personal.
I answer as best I can. I’ve never been one to hide what’s going on in my life, but I also feel I shouldn’t have to divulge everything going on just to be accepted. That’s not why I’m here.
Mom is still with us, but Dad has been texting me every day, letting me know he thinks it may be her last and I should go there.
I keep telling him it’s not what she wants.
Deep down, I know he needs me there, but what’s more important?
Her last wishes or his need for support?
I don’t know the answer to that question, and I wish someone could give me the right one.
But I stay here, so I guess that’s my answer.
When she passes, I’ll be on the first plane there.
It may be too late, but maybe he’ll understand.
I have a lot going on here, and Mom told me to live my life.
That’s what I’m trying to do. I need to fix up this bar, show Adam I’m worth something.
Show him that I am capable of providing for a family, since that’s what he always wanted, what he has now.
I can be responsible for him and his kids.
I have nothing left in life, so I may as well make it all about him. This is my last chance.
I always thought I was a responsible person, but when you’re young, I guess maybe you’re not.
Adam was ready to do things I wasn’t. He wanted to get married and have kids, and though I would have married him in a moment, the kid thing…
I just wanted time with him. Time for us to be together and enjoy one another out in the open.
We never got that far because I didn’t work hard enough to show him that I could be everything he needed.
Maybe if I had agreed, if I had told him I wanted kids right away, he’d have stayed.
It’s the end of the night, with an hour left until close.
I’m in the office, working on spreadsheets and invoices.
I have a six-month plan for the bar, and so far, everything seems doable.
My upgrades have started with the kitchen.
I’ve replaced the dishwashers, ordered new dishes, and of course, silverware.
I’m going to put in two pizza ovens, but because of the ventilation system, it’s going to take a lot of work and money.
I have HVAC people coming by to look at it and give me a quote first. Hopefully, in a few months, we’ll have pizza.
I’m also working on a schedule of events to make the bar more well-known.
Maybe some pride stuff or community events—both, I guess.
I’m seeing double from staring at the screen for so long, so I snap my laptop shut, lean back in my chair to crack my back and then get to my feet.
I could use a drink.
I don’t drink while I’m here. It’s unprofessional. But it’s late, and only a few of the guys are left from what I can hear. Maybe chilling out and having a drink with them will be my second foot in the door. So, I head through the kitchen and out behind the bar.
“Hey, heading home already?” Pete asks as he slides one of the guys their drink. I think his name is Luca. He has long, straight, light brown hair and big brown eyes. Very pretty, almost feminine.
“Actually, I was going to have a drink.”
“No shit,” Pete says with a chuckle. “What can I get you?”
I browse the bottles lining the wall, though I know what’s here since I ordered it all.
I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for. Typically, I’m a beer drinker, but I’d like something stronger tonight.
Something that’ll take the edge off and allow me to go home and pass out.
Too many nights I’ve laid awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing for sleep to come. The sun always comes first.
“Hey, man, you okay?” I hear the concern in Pete’s voice, and that’s what has me turning around. Did someone get sick?
Not in a million years did I expect to come face-to-face with the man I came here for in the first place. A ghost from my past. A man I was nowhere near prepared to see.
“Adam?” I say, his name falling from my lips easily. I can’t remember the last time I spoke it out loud, yet it feels familiar on my tongue. So many nights I spent moaning that name, begging and pleading.
He stares at me, wide-eyed, his hand wrapped tightly around a glass of amber liquid.
He looks so much the same, just a little older and a little skinnier, like maybe he hasn’t been eating properly.
He was never a big guy, I’ve always been the big one, but he was fit and healthy.
A runner’s body, or maybe a swimmer’s. He did neither, but always looked so good, and nothing has changed. He’s as handsome as ever.
I feel Pete’s eyes on me, but I can’t find words to tell him that everything is okay.
Honestly, though, I’m not sure it is.
I came here for Adam. For other reasons too, but mostly for him. I could have gone anywhere, but this is the place I chose because he was here. Maybe I should have gone across the country and settled in New York. Maybe I would have been better off forgetting about him entirely.
But you never forget your first love. Especially when that first love is the only one you’ve ever had.
“Emmet—“ he finally says, blinking a few times and taking a breath. Pete takes the cue to leave us alone, though he looks confused. “What are you doing here?” Adam asks, his hand loosening on his glass.
I clear my throat, shoving my hands into my pockets and trying to remain casual and calm. One of the guys, I can’t remember his name, does not seem ashamed to still be staring. He’s watching us like this is his favorite soap opera.
“I bought this place,” I manage to say.
“You bought… this place?” he asks, eyes widening as his forefinger taps the counter in front of him.
I nod. “Yeah, about a month ago. I’ve been in and out trying to fix it up.”
“You own this place?” he repeats.
I regard him carefully. “Yes. I own this place.”
“Here in Seattle?”
I narrow my eyes, unsure if he’s drunk or just shocked. I guess it doesn’t really matter.
“Yes, here in Seattle.”
“You live here now?”
“Ranier Valley,” I say firmly, hoping none of the nerves I am feeling are showing.
This shouldn’t be awkward. We used to be friends—best friends before anything else happened between us.
But this is easily one of the most awkward encounters I’ve ever had—and I hate it.
Things with me and Adam were always easy, simple.
What if we never get that back? It’s what I put so much stock into, what I’ve thought about every time I thought about him.
“I can’t believe this,” he says.
I’m not sure if he’s going to smile or throw his drink at me.
It could go either way with him. Adam doesn’t really have a temper, but he’s passionate about certain things and can be impulsive.
If he threw his drink at me, it wouldn’t be out of anger.
It would just be a reaction, and I wouldn’t be surprised.
But someone must be watching out for me, because he does not throw his drink at me. He smiles, wide and bright, and I fucking melt.
“It’s nice to see you,” he says, his shoulders losing their tension.
I wonder if he’d be saying this if he knew the reason I was here was because of him, or if it would freak him out.
“Yeah, you too.”
He’s still smiling at me, shaking his head in disbelief like he’s trying to figure out if I’m real.
“What are the odds?” he asks softly.
Well, considering I did this on purpose…
“Do you come here often?” I ask, finally managing to move my feet. I head around the bar and take a seat beside Adam.
“Not usually, no. I’ve been a few times, but the kids take up my weekends. I’m in Soda Springs during the week.”
That’s a shock to me. I didn’t realize he had any ties there still.
“How about that drink?” Pete asks.
“Oh, yeah. Whiskey is fine.”
He nods as I pull out my wallet and place down a ten.
Pete raises a brow at me when he sees it. “If you’re not charging me for it, put it in your tip jar.”
He shrugs and takes the money, but I see him ring up my drink and put the rest in the jar.
“I didn’t realize you were traveling back and forth,” I say as I reach for my drink.
When I found out Mom was sick, I cut out everything in my life that brought me down.
Following Adam’s life was one of those things.
We’re friends on social media, and not that he posted often, but he would now and then.
It’s how I found out he was in Seattle. There was a picture of him and the kids by the Big Wheel with a caption about exploring the city after setting up furniture in his new apartment.
Being next to him again… it’s hard to breathe. He still smells the same, still uses the same spicy cologne. His eyes still have those dark flecks of blue that I used to love to stare at. They were like constellations, and no matter how long I stared, it was never enough.
“Leslie and I are still working things out.”
“Oh—“ I say as my heart sinks. “I didn’t realize.”
I thought they were separated, divorced even. They haven’t been together in years, as far as I know.
“Not in the way of getting back together,” he amends, and I’m able to breathe again. “Just with the kids. She can’t decide if she wants to go back to California or stay here.”
“Why did she come here, anyway?”
“Her parents live here, and they’ve been helping her.”
“And so you just go back and forth? That must be expensive.”
He groans, taking the rest of his alcohol and putting the glass down. “You have no idea.”
“Refill?” Pete asks.
“Please,” Adam says.