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I was about to take a walk when I felt a hand on my arm. I looked down to see Liam standing beside me, a slight frown marring his pretty face. He looked gorgeous in his crimson shirt and black suit jacket and pants. “What’s up?” I asked, my voice gruff.
“You look like you’re having a rough time.” He shifted uncomfortably and pulled on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Were you and Terrence engaged?”
I was stunned speechless for a second because I never expected Liam to mention Terry. Even Tony hadn’t mentioned anything tonight. “Yeah,” I finally answered hoarsely. “How did you know?”
There was a loud burst of laughter from one of the tables nearby. Liam took hold of my arm and walked me toward the coat check. “Let’s take a walk. It’s not too cold, and you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”
We got our coats, and I was surprised no one came running after us, asking where we were going. It was closing in on midnight, so the streets were quiet—well, as quiet as New York City streets can get. The air was crisp and cold enough to see our breath as we walked. I walked slower than usual because I was trying to take it easy on my ankle.
Liam must have noticed because he guided us to a bench near a streetlight and sat before patting the seat next to him. “Come on, I know your ankle is still healing. Besides, it’s easier to talk this way.” I grumbled something incoherent when I sat, and he just snickered and said, “Okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”
I nudged his shoulder. “Remember what happened the last time you called me that?”
He nudged me back. “Yes, some of the best sex in my life. But that’s not what this is about.” He took hold of my hand. “I know you’re struggling tonight, so this is Friend-Liam trying to help.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, Friend-Liam, I appreciate it.” I didn’t say anything immediately, partly because I was processing how good it felt to have Liam holding my hand. It brought me back to when he sat with my head in his lap after my concussion. I tried to pull my thoughts together. “I guess I didn’t expect it to be this hard. It’s been three years since he died.”
He squeezed my hand. “Grief is a bitch. And it’s not linear.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully before he answered. “My therapist described it like this: imagine you have a box. Inside the box is a ball, and there’s a button on the side of the box. When you first lose someone, the ball is huge, almost filling the entire box. It hits the button constantly, and ithurts.” He paused, his brow creased and his eyes closed as if he too was remembering some past grief. He finally blew out a breath and went on. “Over time, the ball gets smaller and hits the button less often.” He shook his head. “But every time the ball does hit the button, it still hurts.”
“Well, shit,” I said, surprised to find my voice choked with tears. “Everybody keeps telling me it’s been three years. I should be over it by now. I need to move on.”
Liam shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. I think people are uncomfortable with grief and death, and they want people to be happy again so they can be comfortable.”
“Yeah, fuck that,” I growled.
“To be fair,” Liam continued, “it’s also not good to stay stuck in the same place for a long time. I’m a prime example of that.”
“You?” I asked incredulously.
He smiled sadly. “Yes, me.” He turned on the bench so he could face me. “My father died of a massive stroke almost nine years ago. I was there when it happened. I tried everything I knew to save him, but nothing worked. Even after the doctors assured me nothing could have been done, I still blamed myself. I almost quit nursing school because I couldn’t handle the possibility of someone else dying on my watch.”
“Holy shit,” I said without thinking. “That would have been a waste. You’re an amazing nurse.”
I could see his shy smile in the light of the streetlamp. “Thank you. My mother had a talk with me about it. She reminded me that the people I’d help would greatly outnumber the people who’d die.”
“Good for your mom,” I said.
“Yeah, she’s awesome.” He squeezed my hand again. “I think today was a little hard for her too. It’s been longer for her, but I know she and my dad loved each other. She didn’t start dating again until this year.” He smiled. “Robert’s been great. He lost his wife four years ago, so he knows what it’s like. They’ve never pretended like each other’s spouses didn’t exist. I’ve heard them talking about my dad, and I’ve never seen Robert get pissy about it.”
“That’s really good.”
“It is,” he replied. Liam put a hand on my chest, right over my tattoo. “Terry will always be there. Whoever you end up with, when you’re ready, will understand there’s a space in your heart carved out just for Terrence Sanders, and they’ll honor that.”
This man. Eyes burning, I stood, bringing him with me with his hand still on my chest, and pulled him into a hug. We didn’t say anything else. We just stood there holding each other. Finally, I kissed the top of his head and said, “You’re something else, Liam O’Neil.”
He smiled up at me. “You’re not so bad yourself, Marco D’Angelo.” He stepped away and held out his hand. “Ready to go back?”
“Yeah.”
We walked hand in hand until we got back to the restaurant. On an unspoken agreement, we let go and walked in separately.
The drive home was quiet. Sean and Jeremy had decided to stay in Jeremy’s apartment in the City. Most everyone else had a light buzz or was just tired. Every once in a while, I looked in the rearview mirror of the stretch limousine and saw Liam. Sometimes he was looking back at me. Sometimes he was just staring out the window.
I dropped everyone off at Moonlight Inn so they could get their cars and go home. Liam lingered until after everyone else left. “How are you doing?” he asked.
