Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“Good. And I’ll continue to try. I’m old-school and stubborn in my ways, but that’s no excuse.
Heck, I’m Irish, and that’s not even an excuse either.
You’re my son, and I love you, and I’m proud of you every day.
If God has an issue with who you are and who you love, which I don’t think he does, by the way, then it’s between him and me.
Never between us, Noah. The only thing between you and me, which should be the case between any father and son, is love and respect.
Besides, you’ve given me the best gift any man could ever ask for: an additional son.
” Winking at Noah, Aidan smiled softly. “With a fine Irish name.” Noah laughed through his tears, the private joke referring to something only father and son knew of.
Then Noah got up from his seat and went to his father and wrapped him in a hug, his lips moving into “Thanks, Dad,” then “love you, Dad.”
When people were done crying and the kids were fed gallons of Italian gelato, the rest of the party gathered around the bar for drinks. Noah took the opportunity to greet Lulu and Xavi properly, shaking their hands at first, then crushing each of them against his massive chest.
“Thank you for coming. Truly. It means everything to Joe.” He threw Joe a fond gaze across the room, where he was just returning from the bathroom. “To me, too, of course. So much.”
“Of course,” Lulu cooed, playing with the straw in his pink drink, standing a little too close to Noah for Xavi’s liking. “Nothing could stop us from being here, not even a crappy car or a blizzard.”
“It was hardly a blizzard,” Xavi mumbled, drawing Lulu against his side, wrapping his arm around his waist.
“It so was, but luckily I had my big fluffy oso to keep me warm.” Lulu batted his eyelashes, sighing exaggeratedly.
“Well, fucking finally,” Joe smiled broadly as he joined them. “It was about time. Now, I hopefully don’t have to listen to any more of your yammering about each other.” He threw Xavi a wink, then mussed up Lulu’s hair.
“Hey! Stop that, mano!” Lulu shook his head, looking like a cute poodle puppy.
“And no, you won’t.” Lulu blinked, then his lips curled into a wicked frown that Xavi knew all too well.
Trouble. “Now you just gotta listen to how huge a chorizo my delicious boyfriend has and how he fuc—” Before Lulu could spill all their deepest darkest secrets, Xavi slammed his hand against Lulu’s mouth.
“For fuck’s sake, cisne!” Xavi glared at Lulu, who continued to ramble against his palm. “Stop fucking talking. Just for once.” Joe looked slightly mortified, while Noah just started laughing in that deep, rumbly way of his.
“Oh, this is gold,” Noah boomed. “Just pure fucking gold.”
“What’s gold?” Noah’s father asked as he joined them, along with Joe’s closest colleague, Monroe, who was basically a father figure to Joe by now.
They were both holding whiskey tumblers in their hands, the amber liquid doing stuff to Xavi’s insides, reminding him of how Lulu’s skin had glowed under the halogen lights at Excommunicated.
How alluring he’d been, drawing Xavi in like a moth to a flame.
“Uhm… the rings, Aidan.” Joe was the quickest to recover. “They’re gold.”
“They better be,” the older police officer winked at Joe. “Only the best for the people we love, ay?”
“He’s a real spitfire, your friend, Joe,” Aidan nodded at Lulu, who had finally stopped talking. Xavi quickly removed his hand and was just about to bury it in his jeans when Lulu grabbed it and once again linked their fingers together.
“That he is,” Joe laughed.
“Reminds me of my Erin when we first started dating,” Noah’s dad continued. “Had some real spark in her. Still does.”
“Dad…” Noah groaned, his cheeks flushing.
“Yeah, yeah.” Aidan waved his hand. “TMI. Isn’t that what the kids say nowadays?”
“It sure is, Mr. B,” Lulu chirped, then sucked loudly on his straw, sending shivers racing down Xavi’s spine. Then Xavi felt Aidan’s eyes on him.
“I hear you’re doing a fine job with the kids in Riverside. A damn fine job, according to Father O’Reilly. Keeping those kids outta trouble. Teaching them real, valuable life lessons.”
Xavi swallowed, pride surging through him. He didn’t know Noah’s father knew what he did, where he worked.
“Thank you, sir. I love teaching those kids. They remind me of myself when I was that age, desperate for direction, sir.”
“Aidan, please,” Noah’s father smiled, then seemed to mull something over in his head. His gaze drifted to Xavi’s hand, then a shadow moved across the older man’s face, and something clicked inside Xavi, like that final puzzle piece that’s been hiding away under a couch cushion for too long.
“You’re…” Xavi licked his lips. “You’re that firefighter. From that… night.”
Aidan nodded, his eyes connecting with Xavi’s.
It had been nearly twenty-four years since that night, but Xavi could still feel the heat in his lungs, the fire licking at his skin, and the smoke stinging his eyes.
He could still feel the pain surging through his fingers as he’d held onto his dad, clinging desperately to his shirt, before strong arms had wrapped around Xavi from behind while he’d screamed and screamed and screamed.
‘Papi! Papi! No!’ Then a giant had carried him out of the orange-red inferno while he’d still screamed, trying to fight his way out of the firefighter’s solid hold, trying to fight his way back to his father and to a life he knew was lost for good.
Then a pair of piercingly blue eyes had stared into his just like they were right now, accompanied by that deep, soothing voice.
‘You’re okay, kid. You’ll be okay. Look at me. Look at me. You’re gonna be fine.’
“It’s you,” Xavi whispered. Aidan nodded as his eyes turned a darker shade of blue, filling with sympathy and painful memories.
How many people had Noah’s father witnessed succumbing to the flames over the years?
How many people had he held in his arms while they cried out in terror for their loved ones?
“You’re the one who saved me.” Because Xavi was saved that night.
He was. In all those years, Xavi had focused on the immense loss he’d suffered.
How it had changed his life. But it wasn’t until now, looking into the eyes of Noah’s father, standing next to Lulu, that Xavi realized he’d been saved.
And that he was grateful, so immensely grateful, that he’d survived.
“I am. And you’re him,” the older man smiled. “You’re the kid who came out of the fire. But you’re a man now.”
“I am,” Xavi exhaled, feeling Lulu’s hand wrapping around him, tightening around the back of his neck. “I am.”
Aidan’s eyes dropped to where Lulu’s hand rested around his neck.
“I’m sure your father would’ve been as proud of you as I am of Noah.” Then Aidan’s gaze drifted to Joe. “And as proud as Joe’s father would’ve been of him.”
At that moment, Xavi’s heart broke for Joe and Lulu. So many absent fathers. So much loss. So much pain. Wrapping his arm around Lulu’s waist, Xavi pulled him close against his side, then pressed a gentle kiss against Lulu’s temple.
Lifting his glass in a salute, Aidan’s eyes connected with Xavi’s. “Good for you, son. Good for you.” Then he paused, his gaze trailing around the group of young men. “Here’s to absent fathers and present sons.” They all raised their glasses, then Joe locked eyes with Noah’s dad, then Monroe.
“And to present fathers and absent sons, too. To Jeremy,” Joe smiled wistfully, and Monroe nodded solemnly, then rasped a deep-felt, “Thank you, Joe.” Jeremy was Monroe’s only son and had been killed in a suicide bombing in Libya when he was only twenty-two.
It was no secret that Monroe had long since adopted Joe in his heart.
They stood around after that, catching up, and once Joe and Noah were pulled out on a makeshift dance floor by Maeve, and Monroe had gone off to dance with his wife, Debra, it was only Noah’s father, Lulu, and Xavi.
“You see, Xavi,” the older man said, swirling his drink around the glass. “Fire gives us life, but it takes from us, too. It took something from you that night, son, but it looks like you gained something in return.”
“What?” Xavi asked, his scars itching with the memory of the pain from that night and all the nights after that.
“That’s not for me to say, but if you search your heart, I think you’ll find the answer to that.”
“Courage,” Lulu breathed, then looked at Xavi. “You gained courage, mano. You’re the bravest man I know.”
Xavi nodded as he contemplated Lulu’s words.
He’d never felt courageous, but perhaps he was.
Perhaps courage had been Xavi’s father’s last gift to him.
Not only the courage to forge through the pain which followed in the wake of his father’s death, but also to be true to who he was and be brave enough to strive toward what he wanted in life.
Yes, perhaps it was so, and perhaps now, finally, Xavi could make peace with his past and embrace his future.