Chapter 27Aiden
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Aiden
I nursed the Queen Conch IPA, the froth of beer leaving a temporary mark on my upper lip—a badge of my sullen mood. I wiped it off with a paper napkin as I took in the Conch Republic with a sweep of my gaze. The wooden bar top was polished to a shine, reflecting the soft glow of the lights suspended from the open ceiling and its metal ductwork. The low hum of murmured conversations from the few patrons blended with the tinkling of glasses and the soft clinking of silverware, creating a peaceful backdrop. Too bad I felt anything but peaceful. I bit into my burger, the comfort of juicy meat and melted cheese comforting me for a fleeting moment.
Luke, ever the observer behind the bar, raised an eyebrow as he polished a wine glass. “Bit of a departure from your usual healthy diet fare, isn’t it, Doc?”
“Don’t give a crap tonight,” I grumbled between chews, the saltiness of the fries stinging my tongue with every bite.
“Yeah, I caught that vibe. What’s eating you?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar .
“Stella. Things are still a mess.”
I rested my jaw in my palm, scowling. We’d had our blow-up over her inspection nearly two weeks ago. The day before yesterday, I even reached out to talk to her, but she’d let me know loud and clear she was still pissed. I’d complained to Luke numerous times, and since he was a bartender, I figured he wouldn’t mind listening to me vent. During our last call, she’d thrown that ghosting comment in my face again. “She won’t let me get close to her.”
“Ah,” Luke said, nodding slowly, his face taking on the reflective look of someone who’d seen his fair share of heartbreak across the bar top. “And I take it that’s not sitting well with you?”
“It’s sitting like a lead weight.” I pushed the fries around my plate. “I think we’re broken up at the moment.”
With one brow arched, Luke mixed a gin and tonic. “You don’t know?”
“I never know how hard to push her! I’ve been patient, supportive. But her walls… they’re skyscrapers, and I’m starting to wonder if I brought enough dynamite.”
“Maybe it’s not about blowing them down,” Luke suggested, his gaze flickering over to the array of bottles lined up like soldiers ready for battle. “Maybe it’s about finding the door.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one trying to figure out the combination to a lock that keeps changing.” I took another swig of my beer, the bitterness mirroring the tang of frustration on my tongue.
“I’ve known Stella for a long time,” he said, shrugging. “She’s always been focused on her career. And maybe she’s scared of you. You know, of getting hurt again. After all, history does have a penchant for repeating itself.”
“Except when people learn from it,” I countered.
“True. But learning that takes time. And trust.” Luke’s voice was soft but carried the weight of truth, much as I hated to admit that.
“Time’s one thing I’ve got, but trust? That’s a two-way street. And right now, it feels like I’m stuck at a red light. ”
“Maybe you need to give her a reason to hit the gas pedal.” His eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and wisdom.
“How am I supposed to do that?” I didn’t bother to keep the edge from my voice.
“You, my man, need a grand gesture.” Luke leaned on the bar, a knowing smile creasing his face.
“Grand what?” I frowned, racking my brain for any medical condition that sounded similar. I was pretty sure he’d said gesture, not seizure. Though I felt like I was about to have a seizure.
“Gesture, Aiden. Grand gesture.” He rolled his eyes as if I’d missed the punchline of a joke. “You know, like in romance movies.”
“What in the hell are you talking about? Since when have you been into romance movies?”
Luke grinned and began wiping down the counter with a rag that had seen better days. “My ex-girlfriend was a fanatic for those films. Made me watch tons of them. According to her—and Hollywood, I guess—a grand gesture is some kind of over-the-top act you do to prove your love. It’s about going the extra mile, doing something unexpected and meaningful.”
“Sounds… exhausting.” And unnecessary.
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “But it doesn’t have to be jumping out of a plane with a banner. It’s about showing you understand her—what she cares about, what makes her tick. It’s about pushing past your comfort zone.”
“Comfort zones are there for a reason,” I muttered, but I couldn’t shake the image of Stella’s hesitancy, the way her eyes darted away when things got too close for comfort.
“Exactly. And sometimes, you need to step out of that comfort zone to show someone they’re worth it. You two have a long and not very pretty history, Aiden. And it affected her badly. I’ve never been best friends with Stella, but I’ve never seen her in a serious relationship. Maybe she’s waiting for you to show her how much you’ve changed. Now you’ve gotta ask yourself—Is she worth the risk?”
Hell yes, she was. And I knew it .
I’d caused that hesitancy, that fear in her. I’d left those deep scars, and no one else. “All right.” I sighed, capitulating to the whimsical notion. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what does a grand gesture look like in real life? And don’t tell me I have to rent a billboard or hire a skywriter.”
He just laughed and went back to wiping out glasses. “Just think about what Stella loves, what’s important to her. Make it personal. Tailor it to the woman you know she is.”
After thumping my pint down on the bar, a scowl etched itself deeper on my face. I glared at my half-eaten burger, the comfort it once promised now suffocated by exasperation. “Wait a minute, dammit. Why should I be the one doing all this soul-baring? She’s the one who went an entire week without contacting me… the one who pushed me away.” The words left my mouth more accusatory than I intended, betraying the hurt beneath the anger.
Luke leaned in as if sharing an ancient secret that men have passed down through generations. “Because, Aiden, it’s always the guy. Even when the woman screws up too. It’s our cross to bear, man.” His laughter rang out again, carefree and knowing.
“Cross to bear?” I repeated, incredulous. “What is this, the Middle Ages? Since when did modern love become a chivalry contest?”
“Since always,” he shot back with a quick wink, then began rattling off examples like a seasoned professor lecturing on the art of love. “Think Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything , standing outside with the boombox over his head. Or that dude who learned Portuguese in Love Actually .”
“Who the hell is Lloyd Dobler? I don’t even know what you’re talking about. This is real life.” I massaged my temples. My gaze drifted to the array of liquor bottles lined up behind the bar, each reflecting the dim light like gemstones.
“Exactly, man. Life imitates art, or is it the other way around?” Luke shrugged and leaned back against the counter. “Point is, you need to show Stella how well you understand her. That you’re willing to take a risk for her. You gotta find your boombox, man.”
“Find my boombox. Great.” Skepticism laced my tone. The notion was foreign to me, but as much as I wanted to reject the cliché, a sliver of hope threaded through my anger. A hope that maybe there was something to this grand gesture business.
“Look,” Luke continued, catching the shift in my demeanor. “You’re a smart guy, Aiden. And you know Stella better than anyone. You can figure out your own version of a grand gesture. Something… oceanic, maybe?”
“Oceanic,” I repeated, the word rolling off my tongue and into the air, where it hung like a promise. The sea had always been my sanctuary and our shared passion. Could it be the key? Then my scowl returned. “This is impossible. And ridiculous. And unnecessary, I might add.”
He leaned close to me. “You are totally full of shit.”
“What? That’s a bit harsh.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just wiped out another pint glass with a practiced swirl.
“Never argue with a bartender on matters of the heart, Aiden.” His tone was light but not without wisdom. “Especially when it comes to first loves. They stick to you like barnacles. Stella was yours and vice-versa. Lots of baggage there.”
I slumped on my stool, the worn leather creaking in sympathy. “Yeah, I know. But Stella… it’s like she’s anchored in the past, and no matter how much I pull, she won’t budge.”
Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar. “And that’s exactly why you need to do something big. She’s hesitant because you two ended in disaster. You’ve got to prove that this time, things will be different.”
I sighed, the weight of our shared history pressing down on me. How could I convince her that the past wouldn’t repeat itself? That I wasn’t the same stupid, cowardly kid who had broken her heart? My mind cast about for ideas, each one fizzling out before they could take hold.
“Doesn’t have to be like some rom-com airport chase scene,” Luke added, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Thank God for that,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. I took a long swig from my glass as I pondered his words. Stella loved the ocean—it whispered to her soul, despite her comment about my boat. We had reconnected while sailing these waters, and while being immersed in the tranquility of the sea. And she was also a chef…
“Meaningful,” I muttered, mulling over the possibilities. “Maybe something tied to her work? Like new knives or something?”
Luke burst out laughing, bending forward at the waist. “Oh yeah. Great gesture. A weapon for her to use on you.”
I tilted my head back and forth. “Okay, point taken.”
Luke nodded approvingly. “Think about it. You’re not just any guy trying to win back a girl. You’re Aiden Mitchell, the caring doctor who cures patients and navigates storms. Use that.”
“Navigate storms…” I trailed off, picturing Stella’s bright eyes reflecting the sunlit waves, the way her laughter melded with the breeze mussing her hair. But nothing came to me. “Thanks, Luke. Guess I need to dive a little deeper.”
“Ah, there he is.” Luke grinned, proud as if he’d just coached a drowning man to swim. “Go get her, Dr. Love.”
“Dr. Love?” After wincing, I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension ebbing away over a horrible nickname he’d come up with years ago. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Never.” Luke’s smile was as broad as the horizon outside the Conch Republic. “Keep thinking,” he said, just as one of the line cooks lumbered out from the kitchen, his apron stained with the day’s work.
“Hey, Luke.” The man’s voice was tired as he reached for the fountain sprayer to get himself a soft drink. “Just got the word that our regular fisherman’s out sick tomorrow. We’re gonna have to wing it for the fresh catch.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Luke replied, shrugging and unbothered by the news. “There’s no shortage of fishermen around. We’ll manage.”
As the cook shuffled back to the heat and clatter of the kitchen, a spark ignited in my chest. I twirled a coaster on the bar top. A grand gesture… something unexpected…
And then, like a flash of lightning across the murky waters of my mind, it came to me. The idea hit with such force that I gasped aloud, startling Luke.
“What?” he asked, peering at me closely.
Laughing, I tossed the coaster aside. The stool scraped against the wood floor as I stood. “I got it!”
“All right! Let’s hear it.” Luke’s eyes widened and he leaned closer.
“Nope. Not saying.” I grinned, reveling in the sudden clarity. “But the hardware store closes soon. I gotta run.”
“Whatever it is, make sure it counts,” Luke called after me as I hurried toward the exit, a sense of purpose propelling my steps.
“I’ll do my best,” I threw over my shoulder, my grin never fading. Bursting out of the brew pub into the warm evening air, the breeze swept over me, carrying with it a sense of impending hope.