Page 133 of On The Rocks

I didn’t know what to do.

Maybe leaving town would be easier for everybody, and at least it would help me move on from Callum. But the thought of losing Tristan and Maureen, as well as the man I loved, crippled me, and I already felt so raw that I couldn’t take any more.

Closing my eyes was a relief, not only from the redness and soreness in them that came from a day of crying but also from the onslaught of thoughts and feelings hitting me from all directions.

The scent of Callum flooding my senses was comforting, and for a moment, I could forget and just imagine I was lying in bed with my husband, warm and safe in his arms.

The ache chest spread to my bones as I memorized it all. His scent, his smile, and the feel of his skin.

I wondered if I’d ever experience love like that again.

Having so much for a while had been the happiest time of my life, and for me, at least, it had been beautiful.

CHAPTER 27

CALLUM

It had been just over a week since Maeve kicked me out of our apartment.

I worked every hour I could. Not only at the bar but also helping Donovan work on his gym. I kept my head down and spoke only when spoken to. When I did talk, it was one-word answers and short replies to specific questions.

My friends were worried about me, I couldn’t eat, and I hardly slept, but I didn’t care about myself. All I could think about was Maeve.

I grabbed a few hours of shuteye here and there, but I mostly lived on my nerves and strong coffee. When I dreamed, it was always about my wife, which was incredible until I woke up and remembered we were over, and my heart ripped apart all over again.

Sometimes, I wished I’d never met her. At least back when I was alone and closed off, I was safe from feeling pain. Still, the thought of never knowing her, of never experiencing what she gave me, would have been a tragedy, even though she’d left me a goddamned mess when she ended it.

Ma, Aislynn, Tristan, and the Speed Demon women weren’t talking to me. Though, thankfully my buddies rallied, andeverybody else rallied around my wife, which I thought was good of them. Maeve needed to know how much she was loved, and I knew it was only those connections keeping her in town.

Donovan told me about the contract she was offered to head up a dig in the UK, and I panicked that she’d take off and I’d never see her again. It was why I fought against every instinct screaming at me to go to her and, instead, stayed away. I didn’t want to give her any excuse to leave, and I knew if I kept trying to see her and talk to her, she’d run.

So, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I wanted Maeve back and knew I needed to put in the work to make her forgive me, but if I tried, I ran the risk of scaring her off. Abe sat me down and told me to give her space, and seeing as Abe Decker was the smartest—and probably sanest—man I knew, I took his advice.

If only for now.

However, my position was tenuous at best. Even though I did everything Maeve asked of me, I was well aware she could up and leave me at the click of her fingers, and that knowledge made my gut pang nervously every minute of every day.

I just had to pray to God that my wife would yearn for me the same way I yearned for her. I had to hope she’d remember the way we were together and how good everything was. I had to trust in us and her and believe she knew deep down how much I loved her—mind, body, and soul.

I had to keep the faith and hope she did the same.

The weekends after the big party were going nearly as well as opening night. Our new entertainment came in the form of a local DJ who’d come in and asked for a chance to show me what she could do.

Chloe played me her mixes, and I immediately recognized she had talent, so I gave her a spot, which, luckily, paid off. The place was popping, and the atmosphere was cool and sexy.Different and more chill than when the band played, but just as engaging.

Donovan supervised security, and Tadhg—who was staying in town for the holidays—managed the floor. The Speed Demons and their women were in again, though the women commandeered a table by the fire with Tristan while the men stood shooting the shit at the bar.

The blow-up between Maeve and I had an impact on everybody. Sophie wasn’t talking to Atlas on account of his gossiping ways, and even Layla wasn’t in the best of moods with Bowie. My buddies may have discussed my marriage between themselves, but it seemed their women had been kept in the dark as much as mine had, so it wasn’t just my relationship in the shitter.

“Have you kept my crates back?” Atlas demanded, taking a swig of his bottle of cider.

“One so far,” I confirmed. “I’ll see what I have left on Christmas Eve, but I daren’t keep more back in case we need ‘em.”

“I asked for three,” he muttered.

“Well, I can’t promise, bud, seeing as the woman who’s brewing won’t even fucking look at me,” I snapped. “We’re lucky she’s providing us with any booze at all after everything that’s happened.”

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