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His words from our run-in years ago, when Tobias and I were in the kitchen. Delphine is what he was thanking me for.
“You got back together?”
He nods. “We got nearly two years before she died in my arms. I can’t even tell you how much those years meant. She got sober, and she fought hard. It was the most blissful time of my life.” He swallows, his voice raw when he speaks. “But I won’t ever regret it. And it’s because of you that I had that time with her. She told me I healed her just before she passed,” his Adam’s apple bobs painfully. “She wasn’t afraid.”
A tear slides down my cheek as he looks through me, somewhere in the past with her. “I’m so happy you got that.” I take the glass from him and pause it at my lips. “I want the same thing, you know? Some peace of mind after all that was lost.”
“I’m pulling for you,” he says. “But just tread lightly.”
“I’ve done that long enough,” I say defiantly.
He stands and kisses me on the cheek. “Gotta run.”
“No, please no, stay,” I beg. “I’ll buy you a bottle of your own. I’m a rich woman now. Did you hear?”
He nods, pity lacing his gaze.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.”
“If you say so. Please, just be careful.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
He flashes a boyish grin. “You’re still the same, insanely beautiful, smart-mouthed, hard-headed woman you were years ago.”
“You act like that’s a bad thing.”
“I really have to go.”
I stand and pull him to me. He wraps his arms around me, and I press off my toes and whisper in his ear. “I missed you too, ya know. When I left, I feel like I lost you, too.”
“Same,” he whispers before releasing me.
“Please stay. One more drink?”
“I can’t. I’m flying out of Asheville in an hour.”
“You don’t live here?”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t in years.”
Years. “Are you going to tell me what you’ve been up to?”
“Little of this and that.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know why I asked.”
“It’s always better if you don’t.”
“I would say, don’t be a stranger, but I know better.” He pulls me into his hold one last time and releases me. “I wish you well, Tyler, be happy, okay?”
“I’ve got your back, Cee. Always.”
“I know.”
He winks, and like most of the other men in my life, he disappears.
I shake my emotion away, knowing I’m being watched. Pouring another shot, I wrap my hand around the glass lifting my middle finger, my intent for those prying eyes clear and swear I hear a chuckle come from a few of them. Another sip in, it becomes easier to ignore the watchful gazes of the men lining the bar.
