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“Yes, I need to tell you something, but…” He comes to a stop, running both hands through his snarled hair. “But I know when I do, you’ll…” The sentence remains unfinished because the ringing of Saxon’s cell cements this clusterfuck of events.
He looks torn, but in the end, his commitment to whoever is on the other end prevails. He retrieves his phone from his back pocket, but I’m surprised to see a look of relief pass over him. “It’s Sam,” he explains, answering it.
My heart is almost in my throat, but I will myself to calm down and approach this with a rational mind. Whatever he needs to tell me, I’ll…what? There is no way this is good, but the question is, just how bad is it?
Saxon nods and does a lot of grunting before saying, “No problem. We will be there.” He hangs up, stalling as he stows away his phone. “Change of plans. Sam took Alicia out to dinner at Diana’s.”
“What?” My newfound calm nosedives. Saxon arches a brow, confused by my sudden emotion. Pulling it together, I continue. “So we’re not seeing the band then?”
“No. They’re just finishing up now. He wants to meet at O’Malley’s, the Irish pub around the corner.” My perfect evening has just turned to shit in the span of five minutes.
The fanciest Italian restaurant in town, Diana’s also happens to be my favorite place to eat. Sam and I would visit Diana’sregularly because it soon became “our place.” But now my images of Alicia hoeing into the tiramisu have ruined it.
And O’Malley’s. This wasn’t “our place” because Sam wouldn’t be caught dead in a pub. But it appears whatever Alicia wants, Sam is happy to deliver. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. We were together for years, and he couldn’t even swallow his expensive tastes for one night. But he’s known Alicia for three seconds, and he’s all but happy to replace the memories we shared and make new ones in a place I always wanted to go to with him.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, we’re going,” I snap. I’m feeling more than emotional right now, and the wise thing to do would be to stay home and figure out what exactly is going on with Saxon. But if Sam is intent on making new memories, then so am I. An unfamiliar emotion overtakes me, and I can’t shake it. “I’ve always wanted to go to O’Malley’s. But your brother wouldn’t be caught dead in a place that doesn’t serve a hundred-dollar bottle of wine.”
“That’s because he’s an arrogant asshole.”
A bubble of laughter erupts from me, and I immediately feel better. I don’t want to fight with Saxon. I will give him space and time. I hope I’m not naïve in believing him when he says there are no other women in his life except me. “Let’s get this over with.”
Saxon doesn’t hide his surprise, as I’m guessing he was expecting me to grill him. But he nods slowly. “Okay.” When I go to turn, he quickly snares my forearm. “I promise to tell you everything. I just need…time.”
Time seems to be the enemy lurking around every corner I take, but I knew things with Saxon weren’t going to be easy. He draws me toward him, nothing but love reflected in his eyes, reinforcing the fact he’s worth every hardship and so much more.
The moment I step into O’Malley’s, my annoyance toward Sam grows, and I don’t know why. But more than anything, I’m irritated with myself. I’ve wanted to visit this place since it opened, but because Sam didn’t want to go, I accepted it and moved on.
Saxon tightens his hold on my hand as he leads me through the rowdy crowd. He’d go anywhere with me—he’s proven this time and time again. The mind boggles to why I’m so annoyed at Sam, but the fact he took Alicia to Diana’s and then here has really pissed me off.
Again, I can’t pinpoint this feeling festering within. I’m not jealous, but rather hurt that he’s changed his outlook and beliefs for someone he’s known for such a short amount of time.
“They’re over there.” Saxon gestures with his chin to the back corner where a group of people laugh, drinks raised high in the air.
O’Malley’s is exactly what I expected—drinks flowing freely, a lively pub atmosphere, and a lot of green. The long bar is well stocked, but from the many pints filled with dark lager, it’s clear the drink of choice is Guinness.
An Irish folk song plays loudly over the speakers, inciting a karaoke roar from the patrons, who are a mixed bunch, a bunch Sam wouldn’t usually be caught dead with but hey, look, there he is, arms linked as he sings the chorus to a song I didn’t even know he knew the words to. Alicia is, of course, dead center, lapping up the attention as she wears a tiara and a birthday girl sash. With the way she’s behaving, you’d think she was getting married. I pale at the thought.
I squeeze Saxon’s hand as we head toward the unruly crowd. “Holy shit, mate, is that your doppelgänger?” says the redheaded man to Sam’s left as he sets his eyes on Saxon.
Sam follows his line of sight, and a genuine smile spreads across his cheeks. It’s still taking some getting used to. “Hey, you made it. Isn’t this place a riot?”
I refrain from saying anything catty and nod politely. “Happy birthday, Alicia.” I yell to be heard over the music and drunken hollers.
The woman of the hour dances over and throws her arms around Saxon. He stands rigid, clearly uncomfortable, while I’m an iota away from ripping out her hair. “Thaaanks for comming,” she slurs, evidently drunk.
“Thank Lucy,” he replies, prying her fingers from his neck, one by one.
Her gaze flutters over to me, and she smiles, but it’s a gesture filled with pity. “I’m so happy you could come.” She tenderly rubs my upper arm, like one would when offering someone their condolences. I peer down at her hand, confused. “I know it must be hard…”
“Okay, let’s get you some water.” Sam swoops in, securing a hold around her waist to stop her from falling on top of me. His swiftness to cut her off has me wondering what she was going to say. I never do find out what.
“She doesn’t need water. Here.” Some random man who looks like a lumberjack passes Alicia a tall shooter filled with something clear. Sam laughs when she throws back her drink, patting the man on the back. Who is this person? He looks like Sam, but he most definitely is not the Sam I once knew.
“Drink?” Saxon whispers into my ear. I nod eagerly. “What do you want?”
“Anything that’ll knock me out cold.” He chuckles, kissing me on the cheek. I don’t fail to notice Sam’s happy demeanor quickly fade.
