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Kieran brushed a hand through his hair as he adjusted his black Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. People watching on La Rambla was becoming one of his favorite things to do. He found it was hard to categorize people here the way one could in Los Angeles. The Barcelonese did not seem to fit into little boxes so easily. Their political bias, interests, and socio-economic status were not embedded in their clothing the way they were in L.A. People here all seemed to be dressed up whether they were going to an office job, keeping a store, or walking their dog.
Angela and Dalia were off doing a little shopping before the graduation ceremony in a few hours. It was something he had specifically asked Dalia to arrange. Their absence gave Kieran just the opportunity he needed to fulfill an errand he had been thinking about for months.
Kieran scanned the crowd for the person he was waiting for and stood up when he saw him approaching.
“Thanks for coming man.” Kieran stuck out his hand toward Soren.
Soren looked at Kieran’s hand warily, before finally shaking it firmly but briefly. “Kieran,” he said sternly, before sitting in a metal café chair.
Kieran sat as well. “Do you want something to drink?” Kieran asked awkwardly. His mother had always raised him to be polite, but there was nothing in his upbringing that could prepare him for this situation.
Soren narrowed his eyes, looking stiff and guarded. “No thank you. What did you want to discuss without Angela present?”
Guess that’s it for the small talk. Kieran took a deep breath. “I want to apologize for my behavior this past Christmas at the restaurant. I know I baited you when I mentioned the beach, and I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. I’ve wanted to apologize ever since. I’m sorry.”
Soren’s eyebrows lifted slightly. He nodded at Kieran as though he accepted his apology, but continued to say nothing.
Kieran was surprised by Soren’s silence, but also had more to say. “Look Soren, let’s be frank here. We are both gentlemen. You can be honest with me. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. I know I was obnoxious that night at the restaurant and I’m sorry for it.”
Soren arched a brow and laced his hands together on top of the table, looking every inch the businessman trying to get the upper hand. “Go on.”
Kieran hesitated, but then pushed forward. “It’s obvious to me that you don’t trust me and I wanted to clear the air and lay everything out on the table, face to face.”
“About what?” Soren asked, distrust etched on his face.
Kieran sighed. “I know you think I’m trying to steal Angela from you, and I just want you to know that’s not my way.” After a brief pause, he added, “But I do have feelings for her.”
Soren placed his hands on the arms of his chair as though he might stand up. His jaw tensed noticeably and his stare was flinty, but he said nothing.
Kieran steeled himself for the difficult words to come as he continued. “But the thing is, she loves you. I see that. So I wanted you to know that I just want her to be happy, and if her happiness lies with you, so be it. I won’t try to steal her out from under you. I just wanted to get that out in the open.”
Soren cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens, if Angela stays in L.A. or moves to London or whatever. I’ll help her however I can with her book, and I won’t come between you two...as long as that’s what she wants.”
Soren narrowed his eyes at Kieran. “You Americans really go in for this awkward honesty, don’t you?”
Kieran half-laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. “I don’t know if it’s an American thing...I just value honesty.”
Soren nodded slowly, silently apprising.
Kieran sat quietly as Soren studied him. Now that he’d said everything he wanted to say, he felt remarkably calm.
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Although Kieran’s admission of feelings for Angela was not a surprise, it still pained Soren viscerally to hear it. However, he also recognized that the man across from him was honorable, and he was glad to know it. If Angela was going to be spending so much time with Kieran, he was relieved to know that she was with someone who had a sense of values.
Soren lifted his chin. “How is her book coming?”
Kieran’s face lit up. “Really good man, it’s going to be fucking amazing. You should be proud of your lady. She’s creating something really special and I think it’s going to be a huge hit.”
Soren’s chest puffed with pride. It was so hard loving Angela from thousands of miles away; not really knowing what her daily life was like. He wanted to have her close to him in London. He wanted to be the one that she bounced ideas off of and shared small triumphs with, but right now, that person was Kieran.
For the first time he took a good look at the man across from him. They were close in height. Kieran was maybe an inch taller than him, but with a more slender build, not as broad as himself. His skin was a few shades darker than Angela, and his black hair matched his unfathomable eyes. He could see that Kieran was a good-looking man, and upon closer inspection, he realized that Kieran and Angela looked somewhat similar. There was something exotic about this man with an Irish name. “Is your mother Irish as well?”
Kieran raised his eyebrows. “No, she’s from South America, why?”
A lance of pain shot through Soren’s heart. He took a deep breath, unsure why he was still speaking, he could have easily and politely ended their conversation with Kieran’s admission. It seemed that awkward honesty was contagious. “I’ve never spent any time in the States except for the trip last Christmas. Denmark has nothing like the diversity you have in Los Angeles. I’m just trying to understand Angela better, that’s all.”
Kieran nodded warily.
Although it pained him to say it, Soren felt the words come out against his will. “You two seem to have a lot in common.”
Kieran cocked his head to the side, surprise clearly written on his face. “You think so?”
Soren nodded, his heart beating in his ears. “Yes: a love for books, a diverse background, you’re both natives of Los Angeles, you are both painfully honest.”
“Well, yes, we do have those things in common, but I can’t comment on if we have anything else in common. Books are really all we talk about.” He paused briefly. “Well, books and sometimes you.”
Soren’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?”
Kieran exhaled loudly. “Yes, well, sometimes little things slip out. She doesn’t talk about you willingly, trust me it’s like trying to pry open a tin can with your bare hands. But sometimes she’ll mention you.”
“And what does she say?” Soren asked, wishing he didn’t feel the compulsion to hear Kieran’s answer.
“Like I said, not much, but if she does talk about you she’s intensely loyal.” He sighed. “She loves you man.” He paused briefly, but then added quietly, “But she also loves Los Angeles, and her family and friends—”
“Do you think she would be happy in London?” Soren asked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
Kieran’s eyes flew open. He pursed his lips and frowned.
Soren sat up straighter, realizing that this was information he needed—he’d always said that he wanted what was right for Angela, no matter the cost to him—and the only person who could give it to him was Kieran. “Hard as it might be, can you put aside your feelings for Angela and give me an honest answer?”
Kieran shifted in his seat and looked away, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Before I answer, I want to explain something. I used to be a musician, and I was on the road a lot, touring all over North and South America, and of all the places I’ve been, there’s no place like L.A. There wasn’t a single time when I wasn’t overjoyed to return to L.A., and as much as Angela loves to travel, I think she feels the same—”
Soren stood-up abruptly. He couldn’t listen anymore. He offered Kieran his hand. They shook.
He would never be able to think of Kieran as the enemy ever again.
“Thank you for inviting me here today. It’s been very illuminating. I appreciate your apology and I’m glad that Angela has a friend like you in Los Angeles.”
Kieran stood-up. “Um, okay. Are we cool?”
Soren looked Kieran in the eyes and could see the integrity of the man before him. “Yes. Thanks for being so honest. I won’t tell Angela about this if you don’t.”
Kieran nodded, watching as Soren walked away from the outdoor café.
He took another sip of his now cool espresso and winced at the bitter flavor. He pushed it away, it too closely mirrored the bitter taste in his mouth.
He sighed. He had just ensured that the woman of his dreams would always be just out of reach, but from his own experience with Olivia, he also knew that he could never knowingly hurt another person the way he had been hurt all those years ago.
“Fucking principles.”
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