Chapter Seventeen ~ Nathan #2
“Same.” My voice sounds like rocks scraping together. I clear my throat and take a sip of my drink. “Any time, day or night.”
Liam claps me on the shoulder and draws me in for a tight hug. It’s exactly what I didn’t know I needed. “Love you, brother.”
“Love you too.”
“Now, buck up, this is supposed to be a celebration.” He laughs as I groan good-naturedly, then salutes me with his beer once more before making his way across the room to Joss.
I remain where I am, needing a minute before I rejoin the party.
We’ll be sitting down to dinner any minute, and I’ll have to be ‘on’, even though I’m certain everyone else will carry the conversation since that’s how it’s always been.
Liam really was right about me secretly loving this.
There’s something about being surrounded by the people I know and love most, listening to them share stories and memories, and chiming in occasionally.
“That talk with Liam seemed intense. You look like someone stole your birthday balloon and told you there would be no cake.”
If Fiona looks like spring sunshine, Natalie Huang looks like a bold summer berry in her red jumpsuit and matching lipstick. “When you say that, it makes me picture a little kid with one of those propeller hats for some bizarre reason,” I say.
Nat throws her head back and laughs. “That certainly completes the image. Seriously, though, are you all right? I’m sure nights like tonight make the Seamus-shaped hole even more prominent.”
She glances at the framed photo of Murph as she says this.
A small, affectionate smile graces her face.
She only knew Murph for a few months, but in true Murph fashion, he welcomed her into his life and his home with all his usual warmth and charm.
Natalie is Joss’s best friend, and that was all Murph needed to know to make her feel like family.
“Seamus-shaped hole,” I murmur. “That’s a good way to describe it.
It’s hard, but he’d want us to carry on.
Keep living, keep celebrating, keep loving each other.
” Heat tingles in my cheeks as the last words leave my lips.
Nat and I didn’t get anywhere close to love when we dated, and I’m sure she understands I meant it in the broader sense, but I wish I’d chosen my words more carefully.
“Absolutely,” she says. “In the short time I knew him, it was obvious all of you were Seamus’s entire world.
I’m sure in some ways, it must feel like life ground to a halt on the day he died.
” She looks across the room to where Mae and Fiona are huddled together, talking.
“But here you all are, living and loving the way he’d want. ”
To an outsider, Fiona and Mae likely appear happy and carefree, yet I know the excruciating pain that lingers under those smiles.
I know they’ll both shed a few tears throughout the night and likely more than a few when they’re alone later.
There’s an element of guilt that comes with feeling anything other than grief this soon after someone you love dies.
Like, how can you be happy, how can you laugh, how can you experience any normal emotions when the person you love most is gone?
I’ve seen it in their faces, and I’m sure they’ve seen it mirrored in mine.
“You have that propeller-hat kid look again,” Nat says, her tone dismayed. “I didn’t mean to drag the mood down.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I expect it’ll be like this for a long time—sadness mixed with happiness.” I sigh and give myself a mental shake, determined to lighten the mood. “I’m glad you could come tonight.”
“Me too.” Nat’s dark eyes sparkle in a way I recognize from when we first met and she flirted with me relentlessly.
“I know we ended things as friends, but just throwing this out there: if you ever want to have a little fun or you’re looking for a distraction, I’m available.
I can do no strings. Just call me Pinocchio, minus the growing nose. ”
I can’t help but chuckle. Part of me wishes I felt more for Nat, whether it was romantic feelings or something more temporary.
I never considered myself a no-stings kind of man, but I proved it was possible with Aneesha.
Still, as my gaze strays across the room and lands on Fiona once more, I’m reminded that I’m not built for casual.
When I look back at Nat, she’s watching me with a knowing expression that makes me feel exposed.
She lets out a little hum. “That’s what I thought. Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She plants a kiss on my cheek and gives me a little wave before strutting away.
“Okay, everyone, dinner is ready,” Mae calls. “We all know the birthday boy hates to be in the spotlight, but since it’s his day and I made all his favourite foods, we’re going to let him have first dibs at the buffet.”
Fiona intercepts me on my way to the dining room, and swipes at my cheek with her thumb.
“That shade of red looks amazing on Natalie, but I’m not sure it suits you,” she says quietly.
There’s something about her tone and the way she doesn’t hold my gaze that makes me think she’s jealous.
That can’t be right, though, can it? Fiona has never been the jealous type.
Before I can say anything, Mila bounces over and hands me a plate. “Mae’s welcome feast for me last night blew me away, but this…damn. Feeding people really is her love language, isn’t it?”
On our drive from the airport yesterday, I told Mila I hoped she had a healthy appetite because Mae was going to rival any former concept Mila had of being well fed.
Fiona grips my arm and guides me toward the buffet table while telling Mila about some of Mae’s more memorable feasts over the years.
I listen, sneaking glances at them as I fill my plate.
After all these years apart, it’s strange seeing Fiona with anyone other than our core childhood group.
She didn’t have many friends growing up, and spent almost all her free time with Liam and me.
I’d heard her talk about Mila to her parents when she came home for visits, and Murph always had wonderful things to say about her, but it’s interesting to see their dynamic firsthand.
Their easy affection, banter, and inside jokes make it clear how close they are.
I enjoy watching them together, even if a little voice in my head tells me that Mila being here likely means Fiona will be leaving soon.
I knew it was inevitable, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
Since relinquishing the chokehold on my animosity toward Fiona, I can admit it’s been nice having her home.
She has said she’s not in any hurry to leave, but even if she stayed for another few weeks or even a few months—which I doubt would ever happen—there’s still a huge part of me that’s afraid to get too close. To feel too much.
Fiona Murphy has the power to rip my heart out. Again. It took me years to get over her, if you can truly call it ‘getting over her’ since my feelings never fully went away. And yet here I am, feeling things for her again, despite my best efforts. Wanting her in ways I know I shouldn’t.
Which means that if I end up hurt, I have no one to blame but myself.