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″Aunt Haley!” Charlotte’s voice rings through the room and I turn to see the seven-year-old running toward me. She’s wearing blue pajama bottoms with a hoodie and her blonde hair is French braided with loose strands falling around her face from her sleep.
Her arms wrap around me and all the shitty emotions stirring my body dissipate as I squeeze her to me. I press a kiss to the top of her head, taking in the sight of her once blonde hair starting to get a little darker.
″Oh, my favorite girl!” I call excitedly. “I’ve missed you so much.” Thoughts of girl talk with my best friend are put on the back burner so I can spend time with her daughter.
Charlotte takes me out to the barn to show me the kitten I gifted her before her winter break. The once tiny, barely could manage a meow kitten is now almost fully grown.
Sunday brunches at Andi’s are still in full force and I love it. My nostrils flare at the smell of cinnamon rolls as Andi pulls them from the oven.
Since she moved into this house, she made it her mission to have her family in one room on Sundays. It started with her ex-husband, and even after the divorce, he continues to show up for Charlotte’s sake.
Today is no different. The house is filled with Andi, Dom, Charlotte, her mom and stepdad, her ex-husband, one of her brothers, and even some of Dom’s family. The group has gotten so large that Andi and Dom set up three tables on their wrap around porch.
″Haley, grab these will you?” Andi asks.
I hurry over to her, taking the tray of baked deliciousness and head outside to put it on the table where everyone is chatting. Once Andi joins us, she sets a second tray filled with breakfast sausage and bacon down and then we all sit around the tables to plate our food.
Everyone settles into smaller conversations. Laughter comes from Charlotte as she sits between Matthew, who is Charlotte’s dad, and Dom is enough to keep my mind off Callum.
I’m not thinking about all the ways I’m alone. I’m only thinking about being here in the now before I have to return to Boston for work. The to-do list for when I return is piling up. I need to pack up and get the townhouse ready to sell. After Drake, I don’t want to be in that home.
My mind continues its thought process until I catch Andi’s groan. “Oh, hell no!”
It pulls me to the present and I turn to see what she’s glaring at. To my right, standing at the steps of the porch is my gangster. Dressed in his blue suit pants and a crisp white shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows and the top button of his shirt is undone, indicating he’d been wearing the full get-up but took it off on the way here.
″You’re not welcome here,” I say from my seat, refusing to stand or head for him. It’s a hard battle to fight because my legs want to get up and run for him. I want to fall into his arms and listen to his apologies until he’s blue in the face and I’m kissing him the way I kissed him two nights ago.
″Please, Doc,” he sighs, but he stands in the dirt, respecting my silent wish of staying away.
″Go away, Gangster.”
″Gangster?” Mac, Andi’s brother, who is sitting next to me says in a shocked tone.
Callum’s hair and beard is disheveled. He runs his fingers through his hair, panic in his eyes. He looks…exasperated.
I still don’t move from my seat. Not even as he climbs the steps. It’s all in slow motion as his gaze stays on me. My cheeks flush, and his foot hits the top step.
″I’m an asshole and I fucked up, Doc.”
″Language!” I hiss, tilting my head towards Charlotte who is giggling.
″What is going on?” I hear a hushed whisper from down the table. It’s so low I can’t make out the voice.
″He’s Irish?” Dom blurts and I swear it’s loud enough for his neighbors who live miles away to hear.
″I’ve told you this a hundred times.” I catch a groan from Andi and refrain from laughing at her. This is no laughing matter.
My overbearing boyfriend doesn’t know when to give me space. He doesn’t know how to give up control and allow me to make decisions. And he doesn’t get brownie points for figuring out where Andi lives and following me here.
My teeth grind as I stand quickly from my chair. “Go home, Callum. Go back to Boston and leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear your sorry excuses. I don’t want any of this.”
With that, I turn on my heel and hurry into the house.
Chapter thirty-nine
AndistandsasHaleyslams the door shut and walks toward me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.
″You heard her,” Andi says.
