Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Sam
The Rivermere Bistro buzzed with the low rumble of a Friday night crowd, every table alive with laughter and the gentle clink of silverware against porcelain.
Overhead, vintage-style pendant lights bathed the room in a golden glow, catching on polished wood and flickering votives tucked along the booths.
The air was rich with the spice of garlic and seared herbs, layered over warm bread and the buttery hush of something decadent just pulled from the oven.
The kind of place where conversations lingered and touches lasted a second too long.
I took a sip of my wine, letting the warmth settle in my chest, my body finally starting to unwind after another long week.
“You’re finally starting to look human again,” Elliott observed, setting his menu down with a smirk.
Jules huffed, dramatically waving his hand. “Speak for yourself, sweetheart. I never stopped looking human.”
I rolled my eyes, but my lips curled up anyway. “That bad?”
Elliott shrugged. “You know how the first month of school is. Exhausting and chaotic. But now, my kids are finally getting into the rhythm of things. The freshmen have mostly figured out how not to walk directly into traffic between classes, and my juniors have stopped pretending they forgot how to write over the summer.”
Jules groaned. “High schoolers.”
Elliott smiled. “Teenagers. They’ll be the death of me.”
I let out a low laugh. “Same. But my advanced kids are finally clicking. My freshmen, though? I swear they lose brain cells when the bell rings.”
Jules shook his head. “This is why I work with actors and not children.”
Elliott lifted a brow. “That’s debatable.”
Jules gasped, clutching his chest. “How dare you.”
Elliott just smiled, taking a sip of his cocktail.
The easy conversation settled over us, warm and familiar.
It had been too long since we’d done this, just the three of us.
Between school starting, Jules moving into his full-time artistic director role at the Playhouse, and Elliott in the early throes of wedding planning, our usual Friday night catch-ups had become fewer and farther between.
“So,” I said, turning to Jules, “tell me the latest drama in your world. I know there’s something.”
Elliott sighed, setting down his drink.
“You know there is, Elliott! Mamma Mia is going beautifully. Sam, don’t get me wrong. The cast is phenomenal. But goddamn, I have never seen so many diva meltdowns in my life. It’s like they’ve been saving them all up for me.”
I smiled, leaning forward. “Tell me everything.”
Jules launched into the latest gossip. The actress playing Donna storming out of rehearsal over a shoe mishap, one of the ensemble members dramatically claiming they were sabotaged when they tripped over a set piece, and the ever-present battle over who got the best dressing room.
“And yet,” Elliott finished, “none of them can out-diva you.”
Jules beamed. “Finally, someone acknowledges my superiority.”
I shook my head, setting my glass down. “So the show’s going well, then.”
Jules nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Oh, absolutely. It is all expected. I thrive in the crazy and dramatic.”
I hummed, eyes turning toward the entrance as a new waiter walked up to our table.
No Evan.
It wasn’t surprising. Since taking on the new event planning job, he’d cut back his hours here at the Bistro, and after his breakup with Noah… well. No one really knew if that was for good or if they were just taking their usual break before inevitably falling back together.
The new waiter approached our table with a polite smile, a notepad in hand. He looked young, early twenties maybe, tall and lean, with neatly styled dark curls and a crisp black apron tied over his white shirt. His name tag read Matt.
“Good evening, folks,” he greeted smoothly, pulling a pen from behind his ear. “I’m Matt and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you another round of drinks?”
I glanced at Elliott and Jules. Jules was already halfway through his first glass of wine, Elliott’s cocktail was running low, and my wine was nearly gone.
“I’ll take another wine,” I said.
“I’d like another whiskey,” Elliott added.
Jules hummed, tapping a manicured nail against his wine glass. “You know what? I’m feeling indulgent. Bring me the good Pinot Noir. You know the one.”
Matt chuckled. “I absolutely do not, but I will ask someone who does.”
Jules grinned. “Good man.”
Matt jotted it all down, then slid his pen behind his ear again. “And for food? Or do you need a few more minutes?”
Elliott shook his head. “I’m set. I’ll do the ribeye, medium rare, with the garlic mashed potatoes and whatever green thing y’all feel like throwing on the plate.”
Matt scribbled it down. “Dealer’s choice on the vegetable. Got it.”
Jules handed over his menu with a graceful flick of his wrist. “I’ll have the seafood risotto. And if there’s anything extra decadent in the kitchen tonight, surprise me with a side of it.”
Matt smirked. “Risky, but I respect it.”
Jules winked. “I like to live on the edge.”
Matt turned to me. “And for you?”
I glanced down at the menu one last time before closing it. “Salmon, grilled, with the wild rice.”
“Excellent choices all around.” Matt collected our menus, tucking them under his arm. “I’ll get those drinks going and put your order in. Let me know if you need anything else in the meantime.”
With that, he was off, disappearing behind the bar as I leaned back in my chair.
Jules drummed his fingers on the table, watching him walk away. “The new boy is cute.”
Elliott rolled his eyes. “Focus, Jules.”
Jules grinned. “I am focused. Just… multitasking.”
I laughed quietly, picking up my drink again. The night was just getting started.
Jules must have caught my expression because his eyes narrowed slightly. “Okay. Your turn.”
I blinked, looking back at him. “Huh?”
Elliott smiled softly. “Yeah, Sam. What’s up with you?”
“Nothing?”
Jules scoffed. “That was a question, not a statement.”
I sighed. “School is fine. I already told you that.”
Elliott lifted a brow. “We’re not talking about school.”
My stomach twisted. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. “Then what—”
Jules gave me a look. “Oh, come on. You know.”
I exhaled as my gaze dropped to my plate. “Liam.”
Jules smiled, satisfied. “Liam.”
Elliott shook his head, swirling the last of his drink. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s going on with that?”
I hesitated. Because what was going on with that?
He was my friend. We’d been just that for years. Then Cedar Hollow happened. And then it happened again. And now? Now I didn’t know what the hell we were doing.
“We hooked up.”
Jules waved a hand. “We know about Cedar Hollow.”
I swallowed. “It wasn’t just Cedar Hollow.”
Jules stilled. “Oh?”
Elliott’s eyes narrowed. “Plural?”
I hesitated. “There was… a thing. With Jordan.”
Jules’ mouth fell open. “A thing?”
Elliott groaned. “I don’t need details.”
Jules smacked his arm. “I do.”
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “It just… happened. Jordan was over, we were drinking, and then… yeah.”
Jules sneered. “You and Liam and Jordan.”
Elliott sighed. “I said no details.”
Jules ignored him. “Okay, but hot.”
I groaned. “Yes! That’s not the point.”
Elliott watched me carefully. “So, what is the point?”
I swallowed. “I think… I think I caught feelings.”
Jules snorted. “You think?”
Elliott set his glass down. “And what does Liam think?”
That was the real question, wasn’t it?
I shrugged, picking at my napkin. “He doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t want a boyfriend. He’s made that clear.”
Jules huffed. “Then why is he acting like one?”
Elliott sighed. “Because Liam is selfish. And we love him for that and in spite of that. The point is we know that.”
I frowned.
Elliott’s voice softened. “I’m not saying he doesn’t care, Sam. He does. But this? This thing you have with him? If you want more than just… whatever this is, you need to think about yourself first. What you need.”
My chest tightened.
Because I knew he was right.
And I also knew that the thought of walking away from Liam, even if I needed to, felt impossible.
Jules, sensing the shift in mood, clapped his hands together. “Alright, before we get too deep into this existential crisis, I have way more important things to discuss.”
I smirked. “Oh yeah?”
Jules beamed. “Wedding planning.”
Elliott groaned.
Jules launched into the latest updates about the venue, the flowers, and the extensive spreadsheet he’d created for everything.
Elliott said with a wink, "God, you know how to turn me on!"
And just like that, the conversation shifted.
But my mind?
My mind was still stuck on Liam.
The dinner had come and gone in a haze of fluid conversation, another round of drinks, and the familiarity of good friends. No one had room for dessert tonight, though Jules dramatically lamented the loss of a perfectly good crème br?lée opportunity before waving it off as a necessary sacrifice.
Now, as we waited for Matt to return with Elliott’s credit card, the three of us lingered over the last sips of our drinks, the night winding down, but something unspoken still hovering between us.
Elliott was the one to bring it back.
“Sam,” he said, voice calm but firm. “I meant what I said earlier. You have to take care of yourself in this. Whatever this is.”
I swallowed, swirling the last bit of wine in my glass. “I know.”
Elliott gave me a knowing look. “And if this is what you really want with Liam, if you’re sure, then you have to tell him. You have to talk to him about it.”
I tensed, glancing between him and Jules. “You know how he is. He doesn’t… ” I sighed, shaking my head. “He doesn’t talk about things like this. Not straightforward. He dodges, deflects. If I try to have a serious conversation, he’ll crack a joke and move on before I can even—”
Jules made a soft noise of recognition. “That’s also very Liam’s ADHD.”
I blinked. “Yeah?”
Jules waved a hand. “Please. The man has been neurospicy since birth.”
Elliott nodded easily. “Yeah. It’s not that he doesn’t care. It’s that his brain moves fast and feelings get… overwhelming. So he jokes. Or redirects. Or pretends it’s not happening.”
Jules tipped his head, eyes warm in that way that meant he was being serious under the sass. “It takes one neurospicy person to clock another sometimes. Trust me. I know my own brain.”
I stared at him. “What are you saying?”
Jules smiled. “I’m saying you teach kids like Marcus every day and somehow didn’t notice your best friend runs on a very similar operating system.”
Elliott reached over and squeezed Jules’s hand. “And it takes special people to love us exactly as we are.”
Jules squeezed back, then looked at me. “People like Elliott. People like you. Folks whose brains might work differently, but who still choose to learn ours.”
He tilted his glass toward me. “Just saying, Sammy. You already speak Liam.”
Something in my chest shifted at that.
Elliott cut in, steady. “Pin him down. Make him talk.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Easier said than done.”
Elliott just shrugged. “Maybe. But you need to do it anyway.”
I looked down at my empty glass, fingers tightening around it. “What if he says no?”
A beat.
Then Jules, ever blunt, leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. “Then at least you know.”
I lifted my eyes to his, my stomach twisting.
Jules tilted his head slightly. “And then you can do whatever you need to do for you with that information.”
I swallowed hard.
Because he was right.
I hated that he was right.
Jules hesitated.
Just a beat.
“Also… Liam didn’t grow up with a lot of support around that stuff. Nobody really taught him how to work with his brain. So he kind of taught himself.”
My chest tightened.
“Which means he learned to survive,” Jules added. “Charm. Humor. Keeping things light. Leaving first.”
He winced slightly. “Sorry. That might be more than you needed.”
I shook my head. “No.”
Because suddenly, a lot of things felt… clearer.
Not fixed or solved. Just clearer.
Liam wasn’t careless or cold. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.
He was managing the only ways he ever learned how.
And quietly, something inside me shifted.
Maybe he doesn’t need to be corrected.
Maybe he just needs to be met.
And I already know how to do that.
Before I could respond, Matt returned, sliding Elliott’s card back onto the check holder with a smooth, “All set, gentlemen. You’re good to go whenever you’re ready.”
Elliott gave him a polite nod, grabbing his card and tucking it away, and just like that, the conversation was done.
For now.