Chapter 37
Chapter thirty-seven
Thirteen Weeks
“Man, it’s different being behind someone else’s bar,” Dylan says as he shakes a cocktail beside me.
He travelled up to the city to do some Legacy Malt stuff with Lex and Isabelle, so we figured it would be a great time to promote his whiskey at the bar too.
His dark blond hair is wild like you might expect from a typical surfer, and his skin has the same golden tan as Lex’s.
“The city bars are a lot busier than what we see in Killara Bay. Even during the height of the tourist season.”
My eyes dart over to the booth where Isabelle’s sitting, talking to Lex and Becca, Dylan’s baby mama.
I feel myself smile. It’s starting to get easier to enjoy these little moments.
The ones I didn’t let myself appreciate in the past, but now I try to hold on tighter.
To let them soak in, so when I’m feeling down or doubtful, I have them to help guide me through, to anchor me in the light.
“Must be nice,” Dylan murmurs.
“What’s that?” I ask, pausing to accept an order from a customer.
“Doing it with a partner.” Dylan stares past me at Becca. She looks ready to pop, but Dylan says they’ve still got about seven weeks until his son is due.
“There’s nothing romantic going on between you two?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. She lets me in as far as being a dad goes, but—” He sighs, looking over at their table with longing.
“I don’t know what our future’s going to look like.
She’s not from here. She was on a travel visa from the US.
I’m scared she’ll turn around at any moment and take my kid with her, and she doesn’t open up to me emotionally. ”
I slide the finished cocktails over to my customer, then accept another order. I finally lost the crutches and cast last week, and it feels fucking amazing to be back behind my bar, and with the staff that kept this place going. Dylan does the same next to me, and I ruminate on his confessions.
“If she moved back home, would you follow her?”
The breath Dylan lets out sounds like it’s been unleashed from the depths of his soul. This guy is hurting.
“It would suck to leave my sister. To leave my pub, my hometown, and the legacy I built for my dad.” He picks up a sprig of rosemary, dropping it into the cocktail he’s whipping up.
“But, if my dad taught me one thing, it’s how to show up for your kid.
” He shrugs. “So, yeah, if she moved back to the States, I’d follow her. I’d follow my son.”
Jesus, I feel awful for the guy. Isabelle and I had a surprise pregnancy, just like he did, but doing it with a partner is different.
Isabelle’s doing all the hard work, but she includes me in every step.
I get to sleep every night with my hand on her stomach.
She sends me updates from her pregnancy app, with how big BB is each week.
Baby Buttercup. They’re currently the size of a plum.
I wake up before her on days she works so I can put ginger tea in her thermos and make her breakfast. On the weekends when she stays at my house, I get up to do my gardening, and a workout, then I get to wake her up slowly with my tongue on her pussy, leaving kisses up her thighs and all over her belly before I slide into her nice and slow.
Fuck. She’s brought so much to my life that I’m grateful for. Things I never want to take for granted. I don’t want her to have the chance to question how much I need her, how much I live for her.
“You’re a good man, Dylan. I have faith it’s all gonna work out for you.”
Dylan throws a one-sided smirk my way. “Thanks, man. No matter how hard the road is, I know I’ll always make it to where I need to be.”
I know from Lex that she and her brother lost their dad at a young age.
But the way they’ve carried their grief is admirable.
Everyone’s journey is different—it doesn’t recognise time or rules.
It can’t be explained, just felt. And it won’t be shoved in a box to deny, to limit, or only open at a time when you’re ready to cope with it.
“How do you do that?” I ask, genuinely wanting his answer.
“Do what?”
“Take the journey with such trust?” My skin starts to prickle as my thoughts are cast to August. “I lost my best friend when we were younger. It was a car accident, and I was the driver.”
A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. The guy’s just as big and solid as I am, but he’s not intimidating. His presence is large and golden, and it kinda reminds me of August, to be honest. Dependable, carefree.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” His words are solemn as they’re carried through the rumble of his voice. They force me to take a deep breath.
“Thank you.”
He claps my back and returns to the drink he’s mixing.
“As far as how I get through the days, life in general, without my dad… I let him become my reason why, instead of why not. I don’t avoid things because he’s not here to see them, or not here to be a part of them, doing them with me.
I keep showing up and giving him reasons to be proud of me if he were here to see it.
There are moments where I swear I can feel him, and they’re always stronger when I’ve done something good for myself. ”
My eyes bore into Dylan as I accept his words, thinking back on all the moments I felt guided by August. Seeing his number three pop up randomly. All the new paths that have opened up and shifted the trajectory of my life compared to what it could have been.
I do feel him more when I’ve done something for myself. It’s not living without him, but it’s taking him with me wherever I go. I feel him more in the good times because that is where he’d follow, that is where he’d be happiest and most proud of me.
And the times that’ve felt strongest over the last six months are the ones filled with Isabelle.