Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Adam
Leslie
We need to talk
It’s Christmas Eve, and I have no plans for the day. Her family always did things on Christmas Eve, and when we were together, we were here for that.
I can’t imagine what we need to talk about the night before Christmas. I already know I’m not picking the kids up until tomorrow evening.
My tree is up already, a small one squished into the corner of the small living room, a ton of gifts piled beneath for both kids.
They’ll open their gifts when we get here tomorrow.
I’ll make hot chocolate, and we’ll stay up late watching Christmas movies.
It’s what we did when I was with Leslie, and I’m keeping that tradition for us to do each Christmas as best I can, even if it looks different now.
I send her a text back, asking if she can talk. Her response is to call.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” she answers sharply.
“What do we need to talk about?”
There is silence in the background, so I assume she’s in another room away from the kids. They don’t stay quiet for long.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” she says, which throws me for a loop. She’s been seeing someone. For how long? This isn’t new? Why is she only telling me now? It’s not jealousy that I feel, it’s fear.
Fear that another man is going to take my place in my children’s lives. I’ve seen it too many times. I’ve sold houses for people going through divorces, and helped them find new homes for their new families. I know how this works.
“I’m telling you because he asked to drop by tomorrow to give the kids their gifts, but it’ll be the first time he meets them.”
“If you’re telling me, then we aren’t talking about it, are we?”
“You know, I could have just done this without giving you a heads up. I was trying to be courteous.”
“Courtesy would have been telling me this when it first started. How long has it been, Leslie?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is when my kids are involved,” I grit out.
“You do not get a say in what I do with my life, especially when the kids are with you,” she hisses through the phone. “I looked it up, and legally, you have no say.”
“That’s not—I’m not…” I clench my jaw, letting out a sigh. “You know what? Fine. It’s not worth arguing over. Thanks for the heads up.”
I end the call and grip my phone in my hand, wanting to crack it in half or whip it against the wall. She has this way of staying calm when we are in a disagreement, and it annoys me to no end.
I’d planned on spending the night in, watching movies and maybe having a drink, but now I’m in a foul mood and antsy.
So I change into clothes and head out, walking down the street to the bar that I’m sure will be open.
It’s just one of those places. It’s like family, and everyone is welcome, especially on days when people may not have anywhere else to go.
Plus, there’s the distraction of alcohol. And maybe a certain guy that I haven’t been able to get off my mind will be there…
He said he wanted to hang out the next time I didn’t have the kids, and though that rubs me the wrong way, maybe he didn’t mean it that way.
Maybe it came out wrong. I’ve never known Emmet to not like kids.
He knows I have them, and it’s not like I can just get rid of them.
Maybe I need to toughen up a little, and not be so sensitive when it comes to them or being a dad.
The walk is quick, the air cold. When I get into the warmth of the bar, I’m greeted by smiles. The group of guys that are here all the time give me a knowing look, like they know why I’m here and it isn’t because of the cheap alcohol or the constant karaoke.
It’s for him. A familiar face. A friend.
Emmet has always brought me comfort, and there have been plenty of times over the years when I’ve hated not being able to speak to him. We were so close, I told him everything, shared every secret… and then nothing.
“What can I get you?”
“Jack and Coke, please.”
Pete nods and gets to work making my drink. He’s the only guy I’ve ever seen working behind the bar, other than Emmet. It’s the sort of place that would only have one bartender.
I still can’t believe Emmet bought it.
I laugh to myself as I look around. Would I have told him not to if he’d asked? If we were still friends, and he mentioned wanting to buy this place, and I saw it, would I have told him to do it?
Absolutely not. Not from a realtor’s point of view. But as a friend? I’d have told him to go for it.
Honestly, I’m glad he did, and I’m glad he didn’t ask.
This place is going to make him happy. It’s a project for him to put himself into.
He’s always been so driven, so full of passion.
This is exactly what he needs, especially now, when something is going on with his parents.
They were such kind people, not only to me but to so many others who needed a bright light in their life.
They were the sort of people meant to be parents, to take care of kids.
I’d kill to get some advice from them. Emmet said it was complicated, but I don’t know what that means.
Are they alive, still? Ill? Did something happen and they’re no longer speaking?
“Here you go,” Pete says, putting my drink down in front of me along with a napkin.
“Thank you,” I say, reaching for it. “Is Emmet here?”
He shakes his head. “Out of state.”
“California?” I ask.
“Florida, I think.”
Florida? What the hell is he doing in Florida? Why didn’t he tell me he was going to Florida?
“Oh—okay.”
I take the first sip of my drink. It’s strong, but this guy always makes them strong. I like that. I pull out my phone and shoot Emmet a text.
You didn’t tell me you were going on vacation.
“So,” someone says, hopping onto the stool beside me. It’s one of the guys who hangs out here all the time. One I see singing karaoke often.
“So,” I repeat, giving him a cautious smile.
“You and Bar Daddy?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“What?” I say, laughing. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Uh huh…” he says, grinning.
“Leave him alone, Nathanial,” Pete warns dryly.
“I’m just being friendly,” Nathanial says innocently.
“He’s fine,” I add, truly fine with the conversation. Then I turn to him. “Emmet and I are just friends.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Maybe, but have you seen the way he looks at you?”
“Uh…”
“The man is in love with you.”
“Nathanial,” Pete hisses.
“It’s just conversation!” he says.
I hold my hand up to Pete, facing Nathanial.
“What do you mean he’s in love with me?”
“You can’t act like you didn’t know.”
I scoff, grabbing my drink. “Emmet is not in love with me.”
“Are you blind?” he asks. “Anyone could see it.”
“No,” I say with a firm shake of my head.
“Yes, honey,” he says sympathetically. Then he frowns. “Wait, are you not—oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no,” I say. “I am. Well, no. I’m… bi. Emmet and I were a thing years ago. Well, not a thing, but together. Sort of? I don’t know. It’s complicated and now I’m rambling.”
“You’re fine.” He laughs. “Pete, can I get another drink?” he calls out.
He doesn’t say anything as he waits for his drink, and all I can think about is Emmet.
Is he still in love with me? There’s no way. It’s been fourteen years since I left. We were just kids then. Clearly, he’s moved on. We’ve seen each other a few times, we’ve texted often, and never once did he come across as flirty.
Or did he?
I think back on our conversations, wondering if I’ve been missing signs.
“I know he walks you home,” Nathanial says with a smirk.
“He only did that once. Okay, twice.”
“I’m not walking anyone home unless I’m trying to get in their bed. Not in this city.”
“Emmet isn’t like that,” I say firmly, grabbing my drink.
“No, he isn’t, is he?” Nathanial is giving me that look like he knows a juicy secret.
“Have you known him long?” I ask slowly.
“Who, me?” he says, placing his hand on his chest. “I hardly know him at all, outside of all the Bar Daddy jokes. He’s mysterious. Keeps to himself most of the time. He’s got the brooding hot guy thing going for him.”
“That’s Emmet,” I mutter, finishing my drink. I slide it to the edge of the bar, Pete grabs it and makes a gesture for another, so I nod. “He’s a good man,” I add, thinking back to when we were younger. Even then, he had a good head on his shoulders. Better than anyone else I knew.
He came from amazing parents who raised him well and taught him right. He was a good guy, an amazing friend, and fuck, was he an incredible lover.
I refuse to let myself think about it for too many reasons, but right now, I can’t help but wonder why I was so stupid to let him go in the first place.