Chapter Twenty-Nine

Imogen’s words stuck with Aiden for the afternoon and well into the night as the festivities came to a close, lingering in his ears like an infection that just wouldn’t budge. Aiden was never much of an actor, so the change in his mood was devastatingly obvious. It was sheer chance that he managed to avoid Finn for most of it, even if he was sure that news of his shift in demeanor had made its way back to him via the joint forces of Adie and Tam.

And with the closing song belted out by a group of enthusiastic teens, the cleanup began.

Hauling the donation buckets into the back of Finn’s jeep, he took a breath as the man in question joined him.

“Hey,” Aiden said with a wavering smile. “Wild day, huh?”

Finn ran a hand through his hair, wild from the breeze that had picked up. There was sand in his stubble, and he looked the best kind of exhausted. “Yeah. Barely got to see you.”

Aiden focused on stacking one bucket atop the other. “Y’know how these things are.”

Neither of them knew how these things were.

Snapping his fingers as he recalled, Aiden asked, “What was with that Bane guy?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Finn leaned against the side of the vehicle, puffing out his cheeks with a sharp exhale. “He was one of the investors I was chatting with. Ryan invited him.”

Go Ryan, Aiden silently praised.

“Bane was impressed with the level of support we got today.” Finn paused, smile widening with each passing moment of silence. “He’s excited about possibly working with us in the future.”

Aiden stilled, slowly turning to Finn. “Does that mean that he’s investing?”

“I don’t want to jinx anything.”

“Finn, he’s investing.”

“He might be.”

All impressions of his conversation with Imogen earlier were vanquished from Aiden’s mind as he lunged at Finn, fish-scented hands and all, arms encircling his neck.

“This is amazing. Holy fuck.”

“I think you’re jumping the gun a little.” Finn chuckled, but he held him back just as tightly all the same. “And I think you should jump on here with me.”

Aiden’s hold of Finn loosened. Not because he’d overstayed his welcome (he had a theory that Finn would carry him back to the house if he asked nicely enough), but because a dawning realization weighed on him. One that he should be happy about, by all means. Things were working out. The fundraiser had been a success, whether they’d gotten enough donations or not. It was a victory in ways other than that, a reminder to Finn that people had his back, that asking for help wasn’t some great abomination.

That he had Aiden.

Aiden pulled back from the embrace, having once again been swept up on everything that was Finn. That was the danger with this man—how easy it was to be with him. To get lost in whatever they were doing, to not look further than the moment they were in. But Aiden had to be realistic here. Finn didn’t have Aiden, not really. As much as Aiden may have wanted to pretend that was true over the last few weeks, that realization had crashed down on him with Imogen’s words.

Aiden was going home.

“Congrats, again.” Aiden cleared his throat, taking a step back. “We should finish the cleanup.”

With that, he made his way back down the beach to start packing away the stalls.

An activity that should have been tedious at best, but Aiden felt a restriction in his throat as he worked away.

“Hiding in the dark, are we?” Marlee said, trash bag in hand.

“Just making sure we don’t miss anything. I’d hate to have Dot on my ass.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Joe’s taking the brunt of that,” she said with a chuckle, falling into step alongside him. “Brought his megaphone down to the beach.”

“Oh god, what did he do?”

“Never mind what he did; it’s what I did.” With a mischievous grin not necessarily thrown his way, she said, “I took it and put the bloke out of his misery.”

Despite only knowing of this long-term game of playful cat and mouse between the two, Aiden couldn’t help the delighted gasp that escaped from his lips. “You asked him out?”

“He put a lot of effort into today,” Marlee said, looking every bit delighted with herself. “I figured I’d give him a chance.”

“I wish you the best of luck.” Aiden nudged her lightly with his shoulder, a wispy breeze whipping his hair over his ears. “I have a good feeling about it.”

“Speaking of good feelings, are you joining us tomorrow?” Marlee asked, plucking up a discarded cup that had escaped Aiden’s attention. “We’re planning on counting everything at mine, making an entire event of it.”

“I’d love to,” Aiden replied with a sigh, because he knew what he needed to do in this scenario. And going to Marlee’s house, surrounded by the people that had made him feel at home wasn’t it. No matter how much he may want to. “But I have to do a few things before heading back.”

They were quiet for a moment. The soft whoosh of the waves and the tinny music playing from Adie’s speakers to speed up the cleaning process filled the lapse in conversation.

“Oh.” Marlee frowned, looking far more like the woman who had given him that stern talking-to than the friend he’d made over the last few weeks. “So you’re leaving us just like that?”

When Aiden spoke, his voice was quiet. “It was never forever.”

“Well,” Marlee said, her expression neutral. “I hope you know what you’re doing. We’ll be here for you, but we won’t wait forever.”

“Thanks, Marlee.”

She patted his face and gave him a small smile. Aiden supposed that, after everything, he could only expect the truth from her.

With the beach in as good condition as when they started, everyone bundled into their cars before counting the fruits of their labor. As much as Aiden hoped that his silence could be blamed on exhaustion, Finn knew him well enough by this point to question it.

“Imogen said something to you.” Finn’s voice was quiet, careful not to rouse Millie, who was sleeping in the back.

“We didn’t stand there in silence, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You know what I’m asking.” Finn paused, the silence only broken by Millie’s soft snoring. “Did she get in your head?”

Finn’s eyes had never left the road, but Aiden felt exposed, somehow.

“She was just wondering when I’m going home.”

Those words didn’t exactly leave Imogen’s mouth. Aiden highly doubted that she knew specific dates, just that it was inevitable. But Aiden wasn’t about to give a play by play of what was discussed. If he did, it would only rouse more questions. And Finn was smart—he saw Aiden for what and who he was. Aiden didn’t doubt for one second that Finn would be able to tell that Aiden got lost in the fantasy while he was preparing for the fundraiser. He’d gotten to know the community and a brief slice of home here with Finn.

Somehow he’d almost let himself believe that this didn’t have to end.

“Oh.” The small sound made Aiden’s heart drop.

“Yeah,” Aiden murmured.

“That’s still happening, huh?”

“Yeah.” Aiden rubbed his hands together despite the fact that it wasn’t chilly. “We knew it was coming.”

At first, Finn nodded. But then the movement stilled, some battle playing out in his head. “Did we?”

With a wavering laugh on the edge of frenzied, Aiden turned toward him. “Of course we did. We talked about this, about what this was going to be.”

“I… Yeah.” Teeth gritted, tone terse, Finn continued. “That was before all of this. Before everything.”

Aiden couldn’t even give the biting response of “use your words,” because he was having a damn difficult time finding his own.

“Nothing changed.” Aiden fought to keep his voice steady, unreadable. “We’re friends. We had some fun together. And I was able to help out a little before I left. But that’s it. It’s not—it wasn’t—serious.”

Finn scoffed, knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. “You know that’s not true.”

“I can’t help what you thought, what you assumed.” Thankful for how dark it was inside the car, Aiden turned toward the window. He didn’t want to talk about this—didn’t want to explain to Finn why he couldn’t stay. Why he was finding it so hard to let go. “I could never just stay here. Not forever.”

“You want to know what I think about that?”

“To be honest, n—”

“I think the only thing stopping you from staying is yourself.”

Aiden whipped his head around. “That is not—!”

With wide eyes and a finger pressed to his lips, Finn silently begged him to lower his voice on account of the exhausted child in the back. Millie snored contentedly on.

“That,” Aiden tried again, far more hushed, “is not true. There are so many reasons why I have to go back.”

Challengingly, Finn raised a brow. “Name one.”

“I’m not playing this game with you.”

“Name one.”

“Mam.”

“And what about Kat? From what you’ve told me, they’re close.”

Flustered, it took a moment for Aiden to find his words. “Whether they’re close or not doesn’t matter. I’m expected to take care of her, Finn. That’s my responsibility. You of all people should understand that.”

“I understand that, Aiden. I do.” Finn’s jaw was clenched tight, a rigid line in the dim light. “But do you think I haven’t noticed? How down you look after you call her? How your conversations are always about what you should do, what you’re not doing.”

Aiden sank farther into his seat, but Finn wasn’t done.

“My family don’t take me for granted, Aiden. We do things for one another. When is the last time someone did something for you?”

“That’s not the point of family,” Aiden replied in a hushed snap. “You just…do things. Because you have to. Because that’s your role.”

“Who assigned you that role?” Finn countered, taking his eyes off the road to lock him in a stare. Aiden refused to meet his eyes. “Who’s keeping you there?” Aiden made a strangled sort of noise, grappling for an answer.

“If you really believed that your mam wouldn’t be all right, do you really think you would have left?”

Aiden was silent. The only noise in the car was the air conditioning, and even that was too loud. Aiden felt breathless, and angry, and called out.

“You’re exhausted, Aid.” Finn’s tone took on a softer note, but Aiden didn’t settle. “You try to be everything for everyone else. And I think that’s because people haven’t let you rely on them, so you bend yourself backward for them.”

Aiden’s eyes stung, but he refused to turn back. Not right now, not while they were passing a lit-up building that allowed some visibility in the car.

“You’re making excuses because you’re scared. Because you don’t do anything exciting, anything for yourself. It was bloody obvious when you first got here. You were so…”

“What?” Aiden lifted his chin, indignant. “I was so what?”

“Lost.” For the first time since the start of the conversation, their eyes met. “You were so lost.”

“And what? Because I’ve got a bit of sun, you think I’m not lost anymore?” Aiden knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn’t stop himself. Didn’t want to. He felt nauseous, stripped bare, and called out. “You don’t know a damn thing.”

“I know a hell of a lot more than you think I do.”

Aiden was backed into a corner, arguing with a man who was as stubborn as an old mule. Floundering for words, Aiden said the first thing that came to mind. And instantly, all he felt was a devastating blow of complete and utter regret.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want to stay?”

“Dad?”

Both men turned around to regard Millie, who rubbed her eyes sleepily.

“Are we home yet?”

“Almost, sweetheart. Almost.”

Millie pressed her cheek into the seat, eyes fluttering closed once again. The air conditioning filled the space once again; the darkness of the road stretched on and on. Aiden should’ve apologized, but he couldn’t make the words come.

Instead he said, “I’m going home, Finn.”

It took some time for Finn to respond, but when he did, it was to the point. “All right then.”

Then, Finn kept his eyes trained ahead, silent all the way home.

“Do you want to put Millie to bed?” Finn asked as he pulled up outside the house. Clearing his throat, he added, “For her sake.”

“Yes, please.”

Scooping her up in his arms with decidedly less grace than Finn managed in the past, Aiden waited until Finn unlocked the front door and brought Millie to her bedroom—biting the inside of his lip when she stirred.

“Is the party over?” she asked, voice laden with sleep.

“Sure is,” Aiden said, laying her down.

“It was fun. Can we have another?”

“That’s the great thing about parties,” Aiden said as he drew the covers up around her. “You can throw as many as you want.”

“Will you come to it?”

It would be so easy to lie again, reassure her that he’d prefer nothing in the world than to go to a party with Millie. On the beach surrounded by people, or just singing at the tops of their voices in Finn’s car. But he couldn’t leave the hard part down to Finn or Imogen. Taking the chicken’s route wasn’t an option here. Time to gear up and set it straight.

“I’m actually going home soon,” he said softly, kneeling down by the bedside.

Millie yawned, a puzzled look over her features. “To Ireland?”

Aiden nodded.

“But you’ll be back.”

To that, Aiden wasn’t sure what to say. So he set his lips in a thin line and managed a weak, “Maybe someday. I really like it here.”

Would he be welcomed back? Marlee was right. They wouldn’t wait forever.

“You’ll come back for the party,” Millie said drowsily as she turned on her side, curling into an adorable little ball. “You will. Friday magic, remember?”

“I remember.” Aiden took a wavering breath. “But for right now, I’m going to say goodbye. Thank you for everything, Millie. You’ve been a great host and an even better friend.”

With a sleepy sigh, Millie said her parting words. “Don’t kill any more plants.”

“Sleep well, Millie.”

With that, he stood up and quietly threaded back toward the door, shutting it behind him once Millie was asleep, his eyes stinging all the while.

Back in the living room, Finn had taken his place in front of the TV, the concluding scene of some movie playing out on-screen.

“Out like a light,” Aiden said.

“Oh yeah? Good,” Finn said, not once turning around to regard Aiden.

Aiden wondered if he should ask for a lift home or brave the walk by himself.

“I’m going to go for a shower,” Finn announced, abruptly standing up. “You can go to bed, if you want.”

“Do you not want me to…”

Finn bit the inside of his lip. “Want you to what?”

Somehow, Finn wasn’t asking him to leave. Even after everything he’d said. And was Aiden really going to pass the opportunity of spending one more night in this man’s bed? A less selfish person would, but Aiden had discovered a lot of things about himself over the past month.

And being selfish when it came to Finn was one of them.

“Nothing. Enjoy your shower.”

Finn returned from the shower half an hour later, skin warm and touch scorching.

Aiden tasted him for the last time.

Heard him for the last time.

Felt him for the last time.

Aiden wouldn’t classify himself as a selfish lover. But this time? He took everything that Finn offered him and more. He wanted to remember this, to be able to feel Finn’s firm touch if he so much as thought about it. Aiden wanted to be able to hold on to that moment forever. Even when they lay together afterward, with Finn curled up against Aiden’s chest.

How could he be expected to give this up?

Aiden didn’t sleep—didn’t try to. Instead, he traced his fingers gently over Finn’s face. Not hard enough to wake him, but enough.

Aiden was committing him to memory.

Because while Aiden knew he had to let him go, Aiden wanted to keep a part of Finn with him.

…

The next morning was a somber affair, more suited for mourning than Aiden’s last day on holiday. But that might have just been him, considering Finn happily put on a one-man musical performance for Millie while he fixed her breakfast.

“I think I’ll walk back to the house,” Aiden said as he washed up his plate.

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Aiden offered him a smile that felt more watery than it likely looked. “I don’t want to keep you two from Marlee’s.”

“Why can’t you come with us?” Millie asked with a serious frown.

“I have a lot of tidying up to do at your uncle’s house,” Aiden explained, because if he said packing he had no doubt that Millie would shoot back that he was already packed.

Aiden’s messily stuffed bags propped by the front door would attest to that.

Millie humphed, unimpressed. “Before you go?”

“Yeah.” Aiden smiled, but somehow there was an ache deep in his chest. “Before I go.” He stood up, unwilling to draw this out any longer than it had to. “Thank you. To you both. For making this an incredible time.”

Aiden could feel Finn’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his face.

“Dad, can we go to Sam’s on the way to Marlee’s?” Millie asked, and that was what made Aiden almost break.

But not quite. He could get outside first, at least.

Grabbing his bags, Aiden called (an admittedly weak) goodbye over his shoulder and hurried as quickly as he could from the house that had so easily welcomed him.

“Aiden, wait!” Finn called, stepping out.

Aiden shouldn’t turn around, but dammit, he did. Hope swelled in his chest. This felt like a moment from the movies. Finn would say that what they had together was infinite, a love story for the ages. That this had developed into something that neither of them could have ever expected. Something that shouldn’t be possible over such a short span of time, but that’s what made this special.

What would he do then? Run into Finn’s arms?

Aiden turned around. Finn looked as handsome as the first day they’d met. Aiden swallowed. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but standing in the garden, surrounded by pink roses, anything was possible. “Yes?”

Finn opened his mouth and then closed it again with a frown. “Have a good flight. Leave the key under the mat after you lock up.”

Aiden’s heart sank right down. He’d been silly to think Finn would want him to stay.

“Don’t talk to me too loudly,” Tam said the moment Aiden walked up to the counter. “I still haven’t recovered.”

“That bad, huh?” Aiden said sympathetically. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Not at all.” Aiden could see that clear as day, with deep bags beneath Tam’s eyes. “But it was worth it to see Adie win the raffle. Don’t know why she was so excited. Already gets free sandwiches from me.” She threw him a grin, that besotted sort reserved for when Tam spoke about her wife. “So what’s all this? Getting Millie some more gifts?”

“Finn.” Dammit, Aiden thought. Why did his voice sound like that when he said his name? “Did he tell you about that?”

“Sure did.” Tam began to scan through his items.

“I’m going to try and get some of this back home,” Aiden said, pulling out his wallet. “They love everything sweet.”

“Home?” Tam parroted, like the very word shouldn’t have come from Aiden’s mouth.

“Yeah.” Aiden ran his tongue out over a dry bottom lip, packing his items into the least-bulging bag. “My flight’s tomorrow morning.”

“Bloody hell. That’s…soon.”

Soon. Like he hadn’t been here for almost two months.

“Holidays have to come to an end.” Aiden was careful to keep his tone light and airy.

“I suppose they do.”

“Will you tell Adie goodbye for me?” he asked then, unsure if he could take both Millie’s questioning why he couldn’t stay and Adie’s—the very woman who had packed up her life to stay here.

Aiden couldn’t do that, couldn’t just leave. Permanently. Because—

Well. He couldn’t.

“She’ll be annoyed that you didn’t do it yourself,” Tam said, ringing up his total.

“Is she around?”

“Nah, she’s in surgery for the day.”

“That makes sense.” Tucking his wallet back in his pocket, he didn’t miss the frown on Tam’s face, but he sure as hell pretended to.

“Thank you for everything. It was really great meeting you. I’ll keep in touch?”

“Yeah.” Tam’s frown deepened, but she didn’t say anything further. “You too.”

With a final nod, Aiden left the bakery and wondered if he should have sent Tam a spineless goodbye text instead. But no, he reasoned. Aiden hadn’t done anything wrong. He came here to try to make sense of everything that had happened back home and move on. Aiden had achieved what he’d set out to do, and he’d been transparent from start to finish with Finn. It wasn’t his fault that Finn read into actions in a way that Aiden couldn’t have foreseen. It wasn’t his fault that Finn believed that the kindness of a new friend meant that Aiden was going to drop everything and stay.

No. That was ridiculous.

Finn was ridiculous.

The moment he got back to Dublin, he’d go to his apartment and get the rest of his things. Daire would put him up for a little while longer while he found a new place to live, and then he’d move on from Dan and Kat.

Dan had been a huge part of his life; there was no denying that. But that didn’t mean he had to be featured in his future.

And Kat… That was something Aiden still wasn’t sure how to regard. A relationship already strained through the test of time—would it really be so bad if Aiden didn’t do anything about it?

Did it make him a bad person if he didn’t want to?

He thought of Tam and Adie, how they were clearly as much family to Finn as Ryan was. He thought about Marlee, how fondly she regarded the boys and Millie. How they all enveloped Aiden into their lives, made him feel at home for the first time in his life. They’d become like family to him.

Blood had nothing to do with that, no matter how much Aiden’s mam may have recited “blood is thicker than water” at them through the years.

Aiden was sure that quote meant something else, anyway.

…

Sunday morning came without incident. And, honestly, Aiden shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Part of him wanted Finn to stroll in and announce his undying love for Aiden.

It was the sort of thing from the romance novels he’d read as a teenager. But this was reality, and no matter how much magic Aiden had experienced over the last few weeks, things like that didn’t happen. Last-minute confessions, a sweeping kiss as the chapter came to a close.

Aiden considered picking up one of those books at the airport, just to ground himself that those sorts of endings only existed between pages or on-screen.

“I’m just on the way to the airport now,” Aiden said into his phone, sitting in the back of a taxi at 7 a.m. It was 10 p.m. back home, or Daire wouldn’t have been awake.

“What time do you get in? I’ll pick you up,” said Daire, ever helpful.

“I have two layovers, so way too soon to be worried about that.” Aiden rubbed his hand over his face, the details of the next twenty-four hours looming over him. There was plenty of waiting, trashy magazines, and overpriced airport food ahead of him.

A suitably abrupt ending to a blissful time.

“Can I ask you a favor, though?” Aiden said.

“Yeah, hun. Anything—you know that.”

“Can I stay at yours for a little longer? Just until I find a place to rent.”

“I thought you’d already officially moved in?”

A relieved, breathless laugh escaped Aiden’s lips. “Daire, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Like I’d let you navigate this shit show by yourself,” Daire said with a chuckle of their own. “Honestly, I can’t believe that asshole had us believing that he was in any way decent.”

Daire paused.

“I didn’t want to bring this up while you were away,” they began slowly. “But I saw Kat and Dan at Dicey’s last weekend. I— Are you laughing?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Aiden took a breath, recovering. “Y’know what? They deserve each other.”

“Well somebody’s changed their tune. I thought I was going to have to convince you not to go back to him. What happened to you out there, huh?”

Aiden shrugged, even if Daire wasn’t there to see it. “I just gained a bit of perspective.”

“And dick.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Can’t wait to see you, Aid. Love you!”

Phone back in pocket, a surprising smile rested on Aiden’s face. Not too long ago, the news that Kat and Dan were out clubbing together would have bothered him. And Daire was right—being terrified of what his future looked like without this one person could have driven him back into Dan’s arms.

But not now.

Aiden relaxed back into the seat, eyes fluttering closed as the driver pulled up outside of the airport.

He was okay.

The inside had yet to gain the bustling crowds that Aiden always associated with traveling, no matter his limited track record. He and Dan were rarely able to get the same days off work, so it never panned out. But now that he only had to worry about himself, there were so many places that Aiden could go.

Aiden scanned the flight board, coming up short when a number of airports in Australia and New Zealand were listed.

Was that a sign?

No. That was ridiculous to even consider. He was in the terminal for domestic flights; of course he wasn’t going to see a wide range of other locations around the world.

He was going home, just not directly from this airport. But as quickly as that thought came, Aiden felt unsettled once again. A bitterness rose in his throat the moment he thought of his life back in Ireland. It was where he was born, raised, and trudged through life. A part of him looked back on Dublin fondly, the buzz of the city and his favorite doughnut shop.

But the word “home” no longer resonated with it.

Shaking off that thought, Aiden gripped his bags and peered around for the check-in desk for his flight in a few hours. Whatever that word now meant to him, Aiden couldn’t linger on it.

He was going back to Ireland. Back to his mam. That was his duty.