Page 41 of The Havenport Collection

Liam

T he last three days had felt like three years.

I was finally back at the brewery catching up on everything I’d missed.

We had camped out at the hospital for two straight days before my mom kicked us all out.

I think we were driving her crazy, and she wanted some peace and quiet.

The waiting room felt smaller and smaller as each day went by.

We chugged bad coffee and doomscrolled on our phones.

Callum and Declan bickered endlessly, and I stared at the generic soothing artwork, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, the Captain was out of the woods and recovering nicely from his second surgery.

The doctors were very optimistic that with medication and some lifestyle changes he would make a full recovery.

It was a tremendous relief. But there was still a lot of work to be done.

The good news was that my mom was such a hardass, I knew she could whip him into shape.

And if she was busy policing my father, she would have less time to obsess over our love lives.

Despite my darkest fears, the brewery was not a disaster. Trent stepped up and had kept everything moving. He’d maintained our brewing schedule and managed the few deliveries we had. Cecelia had worked up the analytics from Gourd Fest, and we had done better than expected.

So I should have been happy. My dad was recovering, having dodged a major bullet, and my business was growing stronger every day. Yet I was restless and confused.

I had so many thoughts swirling in my mind.

The time spent at the hospital was mind-numbing, but it gave me a chance to think.

To reflect on my priorities and my values and wrestle with my own mortality.

It was pretty messed up that it took my dad having a major heart attack for me to slow down and actually think things through. I wasn’t particularly proud of myself.

I smiled when Cece walked into my office. She rushed over to me and gave me a huge hug. I took a moment to smell her hair and enjoy the feel of her in my arms. It had only been a few days, but my body missed her. “How is the Captain doing?”

I took a step back and sat down at my desk. “Better. He has to do a few months of rehab and vastly change his lifestyle, but he’s alive and kicking.” I felt bad for my mom, having to put up with him. Getting him to cut the red meat, whiskey, and cigars was not going to be easy.

She perched on my desk and gave me a tentative smile. “Good. I’m really glad he’s okay.”

“Thank you. And thank you for everything you did at the hospital. Having you there helped a lot. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it must have been hard for you.”

She avoided my gaze. “It was.”

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I know losing her dad was really traumatic, and it could not have been easy to sit in that waiting room with me.

“Not your fault. I’m just glad the Captain is okay.”

She got up and started walking toward the door, like she couldn’t wait to get out of this room.

She seemed too jumpy, so anxious today. “Do you want to get dinner tonight?” I had to see her, I had to hold her and wake up with her.

My entire world was spinning out of control, but I knew the one thing that could ground me would be Cecelia in my arms.

She gave me a tentative smile. “Sure.”

She made her way toward the door, pausing as if she was debating whether or not to say anything else.

“Hey, Cece.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss your dad?”

She held my gaze. “Every day.”

I decided to take Cece to our favorite Thai place for dinner.

Most nights we got takeout and hung out at the brewery, catching up on work, or at my apartment.

But this felt different. If I wanted a real future with this girl, I needed to start treating this like a real relationship.

It was hardly a fancy place, but they did have a live pianist playing, which was nice.

The restaurant looked out at the harbor, and the lights from the incoming boats reflected beautifully on the water.

I was feeling introspective, so I didn’t really want to talk.

But I wanted to be with her. She sat and listened to the music and sipped her water.

She seemed anxious, but given the insanity of the past few days, that was hardly surprising.

But as we sat in awkward silence, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bothering her.

She seemed to be a thousand miles away. She fidgeted nervously with the cloth napkin as we waited to place our order.

I placed my hand over hers, giving her a gentle squeeze and smiling. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She smiled weakly. “Me too.”

I wanted to talk to her, have her confide in me.

I wanted to hear all about whatever was going on and to do my best to make it better.

I wanted her to trust me and depend on me.

But I also understood that sometimes people needed to be left alone.

I hated when people intruded while I was working something out.

So I gave her another gentle squeeze and let her go back to wherever she was in her head.

After some yummy Thai food and green tea ice cream—her favorite—we headed back to my place.

She still seemed out of sorts while we caught up on brewery stuff.

The only time she cracked a smile was when she told me funny stories about her niece and nephew.

She clearly loved being an aunt. She was so honored that Jack invited her to his soccer game next weekend. It was adorable.

We ended up watching an episode of Succession and then falling into bed.

She had some stuff here—a toothbrush, pajamas, that kind of thing.

I didn’t mind. If anything, I wanted her to feel totally comfortable here.

Watching her go through her nighttime routine, I was struck by a warm feeling of contentment.

It was so domestic, and so nice. We chatted while we brushed our teeth and plugged in our phones.

I didn’t ever see myself as the domestic type, but having her here just made sense.

I kept trying to open my mouth and have a conversation with her.

Tell her how I felt, talk about the future, but I just couldn’t.

I opened my mouth and nothing would come out.

It didn’t help that something was clearly wrong.

She seemed distracted and anxious. She responded to my questions with one-word answers. Maybe she was getting ready to dump me.

It was only November, but it felt like I was counting down the minutes until she left. Had she mentally left me already? We had our fun and now she was checking out? I decided to take a shower, since I wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon.

By the time I got out of the shower, Cecelia had dozed off. I stared at her peaceful face, her thick lashes, those beautiful lips, and the wild mess of hair cascading all over her pillow and mine. I wanted her like this forever. But I was too chickenshit to ask for it.

By the time I fell asleep, I was so distracted that I didn’t even realize this was the first time we had slept in the same bed without having sex. I also didn’t notice until after she left the next day, she had packed every single possession she’d left here into her backpack.

It was as if she wasn’t planning on coming back.