CHAPTER 22: PATRICK

The pub was unusually quiet, the kind of slow day that leaves you alone with your thoughts. I leaned against the bar, absentmindedly wiping down the already clean surface, lost in memories of August. It had been weeks since he'd flown back to Wyoming, and the void his absence left was impossible to ignore.

Gran was sitting in her usual corner, knitting something intricate. She had a sixth sense about these things, always knowing when something was weighing on my mind. I glanced over at her, and she looked up, her sharp eyes meeting mine.

"Come here, lad," she called, patting the seat next to her. "Sit with yer old Gran for a bit."

I sighed, setting the cloth down and walking over to her. She set her knitting aside, her gaze soft but probing.

"Ye've been moping around like a lost pup, Patrick," she said bluntly. "What's goin' on in that stubborn head of yers?"

I chuckled lightly, though it felt hollow. "Just… thinking, Gran. About August."

Her eyes twinkled with understanding. "Aye, I've noticed a change in ye since he came into yer life. He's stolen yer heart, hasn't he?"

I nodded, feeling the weight of her words. "Aye, he has. But he's back in Wyoming, and I'm here. It's… it's complicated."

Gran leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping thoughtfully on her knee. "Love is always complicated, lad. But that doesn't mean it's not worth it."

I sighed again, running a hand through my hair. "I just… I don't know what to do. I miss him, Gran. Every day. But he has his life there, and I have mine here. How can we make it work?"

Gran gave me a knowing look. "Ye've taken some time away in Scotland, haven't ye? To clear yer head?"

"Aye," I admitted. "But it hasn't made things any clearer."

She smiled gently. "When ye know yerself, ye're in tune with yer goals, yer dreams, yer truth, and most importantly, yer heart. When that happens, ye're complete. Have ye thought about what makes ye truly happy, Patrick?"

I stared at her, her words sinking in. "August makes me happy," I said quietly. "Being with him… it's like nothing I've ever felt before."

Gran nodded, a satisfied glint in her eyes. "Then why are ye hesitating, lad? What's holdin' ye back?"

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up. "Fear, I suppose. Fear of the unknown, fear of what could go wrong."

"Ah, fear," Gran said, leaning forward. "It's a powerful thing, but it shouldn't control ye. Think about what ye want, Patrick. What's yer wildest dream?"

I closed my eyes, imagining a life with August. Working together on his ranch, waking up beside him every morning, sharing both the hardships and joys of life. The thought filled me with a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time.

"I want to be with him," I whispered. "I want to be a part of his life, and have him be a part of mine."

Gran's smile widened. "Then go after it, lad. Don't let fear stand in yer way. Ye deserve happiness, and if August is what makes ye happy, then ye need to take that chance."

Her words were like a balm to my troubled mind. She was right. I had to face my fears and take control of my happiness. Sitting here, doing nothing, wasn't going to change anything.

"Thank you, Gran," I said, feeling a newfound determination. "You always know what to say."

She patted my hand affectionately. "Ye've got a good head on yer shoulders, and ye've got people who care about ye. Don't let fear stop ye from going after what ye want."