Chapter 63

CHAPTER 63

RYLEE

I t was good to be back at work. I missed my regular customers. I missed the excitement of a busy rush and getting to mix new drinks. People assumed I worked at the bar because that was the only job I could get. They were wrong. I loved my job, even the sticky shoes, cranky customers, and the long hours on my feet. But more than anything, I loved hearing the myriad of stories that poured through the doors every night. As a bartender, I also played psychologist. I listened to tales of heartbreak, joy, victory, and defeat all swirled together.

Tonight was no different. From my perch behind the bar, I watched as a young couple shared their first date in a booth at the back, their smiles shy and uncertain. A group of friends toasted to a successful business venture, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings. A woman sat alone at the end of the bar, nursing a drink and staring forlornly into its depths. I was guessing she had been recently dumped.

And among it all, I found myself thinking of him.

I missed seeing him sitting at the bar openly flirting with me and joking with the regulars. I felt that familiar squeeze on my heart. I missed him with every fiber of my being. I had never felt like this with anyone. I constantly expected to see him. I longed to see him was more like it.

"Here you go," I said, sliding a shot and fresh glass of beer in front of one of the regulars at the end of the bar.

"Where've you been?" he asked. "I thought that rich guy might have stolen you away."

"I was on vacation," I told him.

"Again?"

"I'm allowed to take time off," I retorted.

"Sure, you weren't in hiding?" he asked with a knowing smile.

I gave him a dirty look.

"Hey, I see the news," he said somewhat defensively. "You need to watch your back around that guy."

"Thanks for the concern, but it's handled," I assured him.

He nodded and turned back to his beer. The night wore on. The bar filled with cheerful chatter, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. I kept busy, working my magic with bottles and shakers, pouring out comfort for the weary souls, mixing potions of joy for the brave that were ready to try something new.

Time was a strange thing. When I was with him, it always seemed to rush by, but tonight it felt like it was crawling. I glanced at the clock. I had resorted to counting hours since I last saw him instead of the days.

I had it bad.

"I'm taking my break," I told Phil when things had slowed a bit.

He nodded as he filled a glass from the tap.

I went out back and leaned against the back wall of the bar, scrolling through my phone. The dim light and sound of the jukebox and voices in the distance created a familiar background hum, but my focus was elsewhere. A notification from Instagram caught my eye. Claire, one of the friends I made on my European tour, had posted a new photo. It was a group picture of all of us at Edinburgh Castle. "Take me back to my favorite place on earth with the coolest humans ever," read the caption. She had tagged everyone in the photo, including Simon.

A pang of nostalgia and longing hit me as I looked at the photo. Those carefree days seemed so distant now. Without thinking, I sent Claire a direct message. "Hey! How have you been?"

Her reply came almost instantly. "I'm great! How are you and Simon? Engaged yet?" It was followed by a flurry of bride and groom emojis.

I stared at the screen, my heart tightening. Engaged? We were barely even talking right now. I sent back a string of question marks.

"You two are soulmates," Claire replied.

I didn't know how to respond to that. Were we? It didn't feel like it at the moment. I let the conversation come to a natural end, exchanging a few more pleasantries before tucking my phone back into my pocket and heading back inside to take my place behind the bar.

In two days, I would call Simon and tell him what I wanted. The problem was, I still didn't know. I flipped back and forth between staying together and breaking up multiple times an hour. How was I supposed to lock in my choice? How did I know what the right call was? What if I made a mistake? What if Claire was right and I blew it? It felt like everything was riding on this decision.

I went through the motions, pouring drinks and taking orders, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Simon. I checked my phone whenever I had a moment, hoping to see a comment on the Instagram post, but there was nothing. Part of me hoped he would text me, but he was respecting my wishes and giving me all the space I needed.

Later, during a quieter moment, I came across an article about the residents and Simon doing community service together this coming weekend. It made me smile, seeing that he was making an effort to mend things. I hoped this would be the end of it, that he could find some peace and maybe we could, too. If his life settled down, it would be so much easier to be with him.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I admonished myself. Was I saying I only wanted to be with him if it was easy? That wasn't cool. That wasn't a good relationship. He didn't need someone only there in the good times and abandoning him when things got rough.

I put my phone down and returned to the bar, expecting to start shutting things down for the night. But as I approached, I saw a familiar face on the other side. Marsha, Simon's sister, was sitting there. She smiled and ordered a beer. Marsha was not the type to be in this bar. Neither was Simon, but Marsha even less so. I was suddenly nervous and afraid.

"Hey, Marsha," I said, trying to sound casual. "What brings you here? Is Simon okay?"

"Just needed a drink," she replied, taking a sip. "And maybe a chat. Are you open to talking about my brother? He's fine by the way."

I hesitated, then nodded. "Sure, what's up?"

She looked at me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "How are you holding up?"

"Good, why?"

"I talked with Simon." She smiled. "He told me you guys were taking some time apart."

I sighed, leaning against the bar. "It's been tough. I'm trying to figure out what I want, but it's not easy."

Marsha nodded, her expression understanding. "Simon hasn't been himself lately. He's been trying so hard to fix everything. The oil spill, the residents, and then there's you."

"I know," I said softly. "I see him trying, and it's one of the things that makes this so hard. I love him, but I don't know if I can handle all the drama that comes with being with him."

"Simon's life has always been chaotic," Marsha admitted. "But he's trying to change, Rylee. For you. I've never seen him like this before."

I felt a lump in my throat. "I want to believe that. I really do. But how do I know it'll last? How do I know we won't end up right back here in a few months or years?"

Marsha took a drink. "You don't. There are no guarantees in life or love. But I've seen him change because of you. He's let people in, he's made amends. That's not something he does lightly."

Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them away. "I'm just scared, Marsha. Scared of making the wrong choice. I don't want to get into this and realize it was all a temporary infatuation. I have real feelings for him."

"I know," she said gently. "But whatever you decide, just know that you've already made a difference in his life. And if you choose to stay, I think you'll find he'll continue to grow. And so will you. He has feelings for you as well. I can see that. I'm guessing he hasn't told you that, but that's part of who Simon is. He's guarded."

I took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. "Thank you, Marsha. I needed to hear that."

She smiled warmly. "Anytime. Just remember, you're not alone in this. We're all here for you. We're all rooting for the two of you. Like I said, he's really a different man."

"But what if this change is temporary?" I asked, my voice wavering. "What if he goes back to being the same Simon once all this is over?"

"That could happen," she admitted, her tone serious. "But, Rylee, that's a chance you take with anyone. But the Simon I've seen these few weeks, it's a Simon my dad would be proud of if he was still around."

"I just don't want to end up putting myself at risk emotionally and have it all be for nothing."

"Rylee, you strike me as someone who doesn't mind a little risk," she said with a small laugh. "You're very strong. And if Simon does you wrong, trust me, Mom and I will make sure he understands how badly he screwed up. What I'm saying is we want you around. You're good for him and you're a breath of fresh air in our very mundane lives."

I had to smile. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

She took another drink of her beer. "I should go. I have a lot to do. I'm going back to school and tomorrow is my first class. I'm a late entry so I have a lot to catch up on."

"School? As in college?"

She got to her feet. "Law school."

"Wow!" I laughed. "You go, girl."

She winked. "If you and Simon do get together, don't think I'm ignoring you or avoiding you, I'm going to have my face in a book for the next three years."

"Congratulations," I said.

"Thank you. Think about what I said. I hope to see you around soon."

"Goodnight," I called out as she walked away.

As the bar closed and I started cleaning up, I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation. Marsha's words gave me a glimmer of hope, a sense that maybe things could work out. But I still needed time to sort through my feelings. She had given me a lot to think about and I planned on doing just that.

After my shift, I went home and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. In two days, I'd have to make a decision. I wished I could see into the future, to know how things would turn out. But life didn't work that way. I had to trust myself and my feelings. This was the leap of faith people always talked about.

I turned onto my side, hugging my pillow. My mind played back the recent memories with Simon. The way his eyes lit up when he told me he was paying off all those mortgages. The way we laughed together over the worst cocktails I had ever tasted. In the grand scheme of things, he never did anything to me that was offensive. He went out of his way to make sure I was safe and happy.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that deep down, it wasn't necessarily Simon's instability that scared me. It was my own. My fear of truly opening up to someone, of risking heartbreak, of trusting my own judgment were the things that truly terrified me. I had built up walls, not just to protect myself from men like Simon but also from my own emotions. The thought of letting someone see the deepest parts of me was daunting. But maybe it was time to confront those fears.

As I lay there lost in my thoughts, I found myself wondering if Simon was battling his own fears too. Maybe we were both on a journey of self-discovery that could lead us to the same destination.