Page 117 of The Havenport Collection

Violet

I was nervous. I had invited Callum over at night.

The fire pit was our sanctuary, and we rarely welcomed outsiders in.

But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted more of him.

He was so different than I expected—self-deprecating, funny, and really kind.

Since high school, I had built him up in my head as this untouchable guy who was perfect in every way.

Turned out he was as much of a hot mess as I was.

I knew it took him a lot to show that side of him, to be authentic.

And I was honored that he shared it with me.

“Did you really walk all the way over here?” I asked, as he approached the house.

“I needed to clear my head. And grab these.” He held up a four-pack of beer.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Yup. Raspberry sour. Liam said this batch was brewed two days ago, so it’s super fresh.”

“Gimme.” I grabbed the cans out of his hands.

“I also brought you something else.” He raised an eyebrow at me flirtatiously.

I froze, not sure where this interaction was going.

He dug into the pocket of his shorts and produced a small bag. It was hard to see in the moonlight.

“Are those Sour Patch Kids?” I squealed. I was so touched he remembered. They were my all-time favorite candy as a kid, and he used to bring me bags after school.

He chuckled and tossed me the bag, which I grabbed out of the air. My hand-eye coordination was usually terrible, but my brain made an exception for my childhood obsession.

I turned the bag around to read the label. “Don’t worry. They are vegetarian. I checked.”

I looked up at him. His hair was uncharacteristically messy, and he was wearing cargo shorts and a T-shirt, a far cry from his usual corporate-casual attire. “You checked?”

He shrugged. “I googled which types of candy are vegetarian. I know you are a sugar fiend, so I wanted to be prepared to buy your friendship.”

I tore open the bag and threw a few into my mouth. “It worked. You’re my best friend now.”

He laughed.

I looked around. “Just don’t tell my kids, okay? I’d lose my mom cred if they knew I was chowing down on red dye #40.”

He winked. “Your secret is safe with me.”

I gestured for him to follow me. “Yael and Rose built a fire.”

He followed me down the short path that connected our two houses to the large brick patio with an enormous built-in fire pit.

Sure enough, my sister and her wife were snuggled up in one Adirondack chair in front of a roaring fire.

I was used to dealing with their constant affection, but in front of Callum, I felt a little awkward.

“Good evening, ladies,” Callum said, walking over to give them each a hug.

Yael pulled up another chair for him. “Welcome to the mom sanctuary,” she said.

He looked around. “This is gorgeous. Did you build this?”

Rose nodded. “We added it on last summer when Violet moved in. It’s equidistant from both of our houses if we need to use the bathroom or refill the drinks.”

Rose settled back onto her wife’s lap and gestured a few yards away where a tiny wood shack stood.

“Yael built that earlier this summer to keep the firewood dry. Since we had electricity run out here,”—she gestured to the string lights that hung from the tree above—“we’re trying to figure out how to add a mini fridge to keep the wine chilled. ”

Callum smiled and settled into his chair. “This is brilliant. I love it. Thank you for inviting me into the sanctuary.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Since it sounds like my sister really put you through the wringer, it was the least we could do.”

I tried to suppress a giggle as I quietly sipped my beer.

Callum ran his hand through his already messy hair. “You could say that. I showed up to take her out to coffee, and I ended up shoveling pig shit for hours.”

“You didn’t just shovel shit,” I added.

“Nope, I also had the special trauma of being assaulted by a llama.”

“It wasn’t a llama. It was an alpaca. There’s a difference. Llamas are assholes, and alpacas are loyal and cuddly like puppies,” I explained.

“That wasn’t cuddling, Violet.”

“Tell that to the alpaca, Callum,” I replied, laughing.

“And then she made me load up the truck for the farmers’ market.”

Rose made a face. “Where was Cody? Doesn’t he usually handle that?

” I could feel my cheeks turning pink, so I stared into the beer and hoped the firelight wouldn’t give me away.

“He was busy,” I mumbled into my beer. I saw a look of recognition dawn on Rose’s face, and I knew that I was never going to hear the end of it.

So I wanted to see his sexy muscles in action. Big deal. I had been in a dry spell for so long I may have enjoyed watching him stack and carry heavy crates of fruits and veggies. Is that so wrong? Those memories would keep me warm on the lonely winter nights ahead. A girl had to plan.

Rose and Yael excused themselves to go to bed around nine thirty, way earlier than normal. They were super obvious about it too. Why, oh why did I trust them to be cool about this?

Callum pulled his chair closer to mine and handed me another beer. He even cracked it open for me before handing it to me, always the perfect gentleman.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the flames until I couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Thanks for coming over.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he replied, his eyes still watching the fire.

“Thanks for agreeing to coach the boys too. I know it means a lot to them. The last few years have been really difficult, and they aren’t even old enough to understand.”

He turned and looked at me. A moment passed where I lost myself in his cool gray eyes. “I am happy to do it. They are great kids.”

I smiled.

“And,” he continued, “I could use the distraction right now.”

This piqued my interest.

“Everything okay?”

“I just have a lot on my mind. I always have a lot on my mind. But the past year has been…well, strange. A lot of stuff has changed, and I’m still trying to catch up.”

“I know that feeling.” I raised my beer can in salute.

“Like I woke up one morning and all the circumstances had changed, and I wasn’t prepared and had no plan.”

“And we know you always need a plan,” I chirped.

He pinned me with an intense stare. “Damn right I do. I love plans.”

I threw a Sour Patch Kid at him. He caught it in mid-air and tossed it into his mouth.

“Okay, smarty-pants,” I quipped. “What’s your plan tonight?”

“Tonight I’m hanging out with my cool friend and enjoying the beautiful weather. It’s not often I just sit back and relax. Okay, it’s basically never.”

I smiled. Callum definitely appeared to have a stick up his ass, and his inability to slow down or sit still just confirmed that for me. “I can see it’s a struggle for you.”

“It’s not that.” He hesitated for a moment. I could see his furrowed brows and his tense muscles.

“If you don’t want to talk about it…” I started.

He shifted in his chair. “I just hate having to say this shit out loud. But I feel like I can talk to you, you know? Because you’re divorced too. You get it in a way my other friends don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I hate that I’m thirty-six years old and single and still figuring it all out.”

I paused, not sure how to respond. He’s probably still in love with his ex. My heart sank at that realization.

“My ex-wife is getting remarried,” he explained. “And she is getting married to my former best friend.”

“Oh, shit.” I shouldn’t have said that out loud. “I’m sorry.” I started to speak and then stopped myself.

“If you are about to ask me if she left me for him, the answer is I don’t know. I never thought so until I received the wedding invite.”

“They invited you to their wedding?” I was incredulous. Who did that?

“Yup.”

“Are you and your ex still friends?”

“Not even close. We divorced amicably enough, but after she threw a grenade onto my life, I understandably didn’t want to interact with her anymore.”

I swallowed my pride and asked the question I had been dreading. “Do you still love her?”

He let out a throaty laugh that went straight to my lady parts. “No. Not at all.”

“Okay…”

“No, I’m serious. I don’t still love her. I’m not even sure I ever loved her. Maybe I did. But I was in my twenties, and things were different then. My priorities were different. I thought we were so similar and that we wanted the same things.”

“And?”

“And we didn’t. She said she didn’t want to be married to me anymore. Made me feel like I was dragging her down.” He looked so sad and dejected, I wanted to gather him up in my arms and soothe away his pain.

“That’s a shitty thing to say.”

“Thank you.”

“It sounds like she’s a selfish asshole who got what she deserved.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

“She lost you, didn’t she? And this new guy? I don’t know him, but I am going to guess he’s a total dick. Because only a grade A narcissist would move in on his buddy’s ex-wife so soon after their divorce and then send him a fucking invitation to the wedding just to rub it in his face.”

He considered that for a while, staring into the flames. My heart broke for him. I had my own romantic tale of woe, but I could see how deeply this cut for him.

“She must be really beautiful.” I couldn't stop myself. I knew I should just let it go, but the curiosity was gnawing at me. I wanted to know what kind of woman he married.

That snapped him out of his fog. “Who?”

“Your ex-wife.”

“Oh, Becca? I guess so. She is beautiful in that generic untouchable way, you know. Like a photograph. She’s tall and willowy and never leaves the house without makeup.

It was actually a huge pain in the ass, because she never wanted to do anything fun or adventurous.

Refused to go out on the boat with me because it would mess up her hair. ”

I rolled my eyes. I hated women like that. Mainly because I didn’t understand them and was secretly jealous of them all through high school. Okay, and maybe a little bit after high school too. I owned my insecurities, thank you very much.