Page 94 of As the Years Pass
“What time are you going?”
He shrugs. “Few hours maybe. I need to go home and change.”
I put my arms around his waist. “You could keep clothes here, you know.”
“I’d like that. But also, we could go to my place more. I have video games.”
I laugh, leaning in to kiss him. “Good point.”
We find a movie to watch and cuddle on the couch before we head to his house. While he changes, I walk around, noting nothing has changed. There is no more furniture here, nothing hanging on the walls. It doesn’t look like a home, it just looks like a place he’s staying—like a place he doesn’t plan on living in for a long time. It gives me a weird feeling that I can’t quite explain.
“You ready?” he asks when he’s finished.
I nod and we leave.
I help him go through paperwork and look over his plan for the bar, giving him my opinion on different things like upgrades and the event schedule. When there is nothing I can help him with, I sit and listen to videos I need for my classes. All this feels so natural, yet there is a dark cloud looming over my head that I can’t get rid of.
Emmet and I have always been safe in our bubble, and as much as I want to let everyone know what’s going on between us, that he’s mine and I’m his, it makes me sick thinking about it. And each day it gets worse rather than better—or easier.
All I can picture are the disgusted looks on people’s faces, and I shouldn’t let that bother me, but it’s not so easy. I wish it were easy.
What if Leslie freaks out? What if she doesn’t let me see the kids anymore? Sure, I could go to court, but that takes forever.
I should have done that already.
I glance up from my phone, flicking my eyes toward Emmet, who is in deep thought, staring at his computer screen. His brow is furrowed, lips pursed. This bar has all his attention and focus. Well, most of it because I still feel like his number one priority.
Does he know he’ll never be mine? I mean, he will be a priority, but my kids… my kids have to come first. He must know that, right?
He came here for me, so he must have weighed the pros and cons. He’s always been everything I need and want, and I messed that up years ago, over the same thing that’s bothering me now. I have been given another chance, and I can’t screw it up. I don’t want to screw it up. I know what I want, I just need to be brave enough to take it. Brave like him.
Since we’ve been apart, life hasn’t been easy, but in the few weeks we’ve been together, everything has come together. Everything is easier and more enjoyable. Just like it was all those years ago, when he was by my side.
I want this with him. I really, truly do. I want to be with him, and I don’t want to be afraid to tell anyone about it either. I wish I could get over this fear, and I wish I knew where it came from at all—this need to be accepted, the need to please people who don’t matter. I know that’s my issue. Now, if only I could get it to stop, everything would be perfect.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Emmet
St. Patrick’s Day is on a Monday, but the bar is celebrating all weekend. The guys—the group of guys who are here all the time—threw some ideas around to help me out. Some of them stuck, and I’ve put them into the itinerary for the weekend. I anticipate it being busy, especially since the kitchen is fully renovated and complete. We’re offering a brunch on Sunday that you had to buy tickets for—they’re sold out—and came up with a few different Irish dishes to offer on the other days. There will be a live band, a shot contest, a best outfit contest, a temporary tattoo station that will be set up all weekend, and we will have movies that focus on the holiday in some way playing on the new sixty inch TVs I installed last week.
This weekend is a great way to get people into the bar and get us noticed. Summer is coming, and I have plenty of fun stuff planned. I’ve posted fliers with a list of events in both bathrooms and on the bulletin board. Live music, bingo nights, a stand-up comedian, and a ton of other stuff. Right now, finances are looking good, but only time will tell if that stays true.
“What else can we help with?” Benton asks as I’m putting in the last few bottles of beer into the cooler. He sweeps his blond hair away from his face, his bright blue eyes almost glowing under the light.
I look around the bar. They did a great job decorating. There are streamers hanging from the ceiling, a mix of light and dark green tablecloths, and accessories for people to wear for photos on the tables. The temporary tattoo station is set up in the corner with spray bottles full of water, paper towels, and hundreds of little tattoo cut-outs. The table by the stage is set up for the DJ tomorrow night, and we will take it down when he’s finished to prepare for the band coming in on Saturday.
“I think we’re good, Benton. Thank you so much for your help.”
“It’s no problem. Me, Johnny, and Grey are going to head out.”
“Have a great night, and get home safe.”
He smiles before heading over to his boyfriends, and they leave together. The only people left here now are Pete, Nathanial, and Mario.
“I think this is as good as it gets,” I say, coming around the bar.
“Looks good,” Mario says with a proud nod.
