I shouldn’t have done it. Insist that she stay here instead of with Tess. It would’ve been easier on us both if she did. All I know is when she said she was moving home, I felt like someone reached into my chest and popped my lungs like a pair of balloons. I couldn’t breathe. The thought of her leaving... I panicked. Said the only thing I could think of to buy myself another day with her.

I need more time.

Not to convince her to stay or to be with me. I know I can’t do that. I’m the reason she’s leaving. I know that... I just need to wake up one more morning, knowing she’s here. That she hasn’t left me yet. Not yet. That there’s still a chance, even if I’ve been too chicken shit to take it.

I spent the night steeped in booze. Thursday is Ladies’ Night at Gilroy’s—there is no shortage of single women and do a shot with me! is their battle cry. I lost count at eight.

I remember stumbling up the stairs around 3 AM. Standing in the kitchen, I toss back a fistful of Ibuprofen and a couple of bottles of water, staring at the crack of light leaking from beneath Cari’s door. She’s awake.

Don’t make this any weirder or harder than it already is.

Like that’s even possible.

She doesn’t want you.

I deserve to know why.

You promised, asshole.

Yeah, I promised.

“Fuck.” I mutter it, passing her room to pinball my way down the hall to my own. Kicking my door shut with a resounding clap, I lock it before face-planting in my bed.

Regardless of my late night, I keep to my schedule. I get up at 5 AM and go for a run, thanking god for what Uncle Paddy calls our Irish Constitution. When I come home, I shower. I dress for work. I eat a bowl of cereal while I wait for the coffee to finish brewing. Her door is still shut, and it takes everything I’ve got to leave it that way. I want to open it, just to make sure she’s still here. I want to, but I don’t because I promised I wouldn’t. I promised to leave her alone. To not make this any weirder or harder than it already is. She’s leaving, and I’m going to let her. Spying her car keys, tossed on the counter, next to the toaster, I palm them. Stuff them in my pocket.

I check my phone between bites, scrolling through texts. The first one is from Declan, reminding me that we’re meeting with the insurance adjuster on-site at 9 AM. The rest are from Sara.

Sara: Please let me explain.

Sara: I need to talk to you.

Sara: Please, Patrick. Just

answer your phone.

Sara: I’m sorry.

Nothing she didn’t say to me when I chased her out the door after the meeting with her father.

“Why?” I said. Even though I knew, I wanted to hear her say it. “What did Cari ever do to you?”

For a second, she looked like she was going to deny it. Act like she didn’t know what I was talking about. Then her face hardened. Her gaze shifted like she couldn’t look me in the eye. “You know what she did.”

“It’s not her fault I’m in love with her,” I told her. “That’s on me. You want to punish someone, it should’ve been me.”

She reaches for my arm. “I love you,” she says it like it should mean something. Like I should feel the same way.

“We were together for five weeks, Sara,” I say, pulling myself free. “I don’t think you love me, I just think no one has ever told you no before.”

“She’s not good enough for you.” She turns ugly. Desperate. “Did you see that video? She—”

“Yeah, I saw it.” I nod my head, rubbing my hand across my mouth because thinking about it makes me a little sick. “And on her worst day, Cari is still the best person I know. A thousand times better than you could even hope to be.”

“Patrick—” She reaches for me again, and I push her hand away.

“You know what really pisses me off?” I tell her stepping in close enough to have her shrink back a little. I’ve never hit a woman in my life. Never wanted to. Until now. “Sunday, when James and his little minion showed up at the game—you had no idea who he was. That means you sought him out. That means this wasn’t a situation that got away from you. You weren’t duped or coerced. You knew who he was, how he treated Cari, and you went looking for him. And like an idiot, I defended you.” I’m the one who pointed her in his direction. I feel my lips peel away from my teeth in an expression that has her shrinking back even further. “Don’t ever come back here, Sara. You’re not welcome anymore.”

I delete her texts before rinsing my bowl and putting it in the dishwasher. When I turn around, Cari’s standing in her bedroom doorway, watching me. She’s wearing the robe I gave her, the sleeves baggy and skimming her knuckles, its lapels pulled tight across her chest. All I can think about is how little more than 24-hours ago, I was pulling it off her. Reaching past its folds to touch the warm skin underneath.

“Morning,” I say, my voice is horse so I clear my throat and try again. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No.” She shakes her head, threading the robe’s belt between her fingers. “The guy Miranda is sending for the paintings will be here in an hour.”

“Oh,” I say, nodding my head while I dig my stainless-steel to-go cup out of the cabinet above the coffee pot. I haven’t used it in months, but I need to get out of here.

“Late night?” She smiles, trying to keep things normal. Make them the way they were before.

“Ladies’ Night always is,” I say, forcing myself to smile. Keep it light. Make it easy. “So, I was thinking... maybe we can get everyone together tonight.” I pour coffee into my cup, focusing on the task at hand in an effort to keep myself grounded. “We can close for the night. Hang out down stairs. Have some drinks. Stick Declan in the kitchen. Listen to some music.” I fit the lid on my cup and risk a look in her direction. “A private send-off. What do you think?”

“You can’t close Gilroy’s on a Friday night.” She looks at me like I’m crazy.

“It’s my bar,” I remind her. “I can do whatever I want.”

She chews on her bottom lip, her hands still fidgeting with the belt around her waist. She looks like she’s looking for a way out, so I give it to her.

“Look,” I say as casually as I can. “If you have other plans, it’s cool. It’s your last night in Boston—you should do whatever you want to do.” I cross the kitchen, moving toward her.

“I thought maybe I’d just order pizza and clear out the DVR,” she says, moving out of the doorway so I can pass through it. “You know, a quiet night in.”

“Okay,” I say, passing through the living room on my way to the front door. “Well, if you get bored, come downstairs and join us for a drink or two.”

“I thought maybe you’d want to hang out, just the two of us,” she says. “You know, like... before.”

Before.

That stops me in my tracks, and I turn to see that she’s followed me into the living room, standing close enough to touch. I want to grab her and shake her. Yell at her. Ask her what the hell she’s doing. When she’s going to get tired of playing with me.

But then I remember I’m the one who asked her to stay. I’m the one who needed more time.

“How about both,” I say, pulling the door open to step onto the landing. “You can torture me with reality television for a few hours and then we can go downstairs and give everyone a chance to say goodbye.”

The smile on her face wobbles a bit, but she holds onto it. “It’s a date.”

When I get to the garage, it’s barely 7 AM. Even though Con doesn’t officially open until 9, Tess has the bay doors up and music blaring so loud she doesn’t hear me come in. Half of her body is under the hood of a ’57 Chevy, disappeared so far into its belly, the toes of her boots kick against the ground for purchase. Her cat, Shadrach, is curled up, sleeping in a sunny spot on the dash board.

Rather than compete with the noise, I pick up the remote and mute the speaker system Con wired throughout the garage. As soon as the music is gone, Tess’s head pops up.

“Hey asshole, I was—” As soon as she sees me, she goes quiet. “Oh. Thought you were Con.” She never did have trouble telling us apart. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering her, I study the truck she’s working on. “I can’t believe Conner makes you work on this.”

She raises an eyebrow at me while she uses a worn bandana to wipe grease off her hands. “He’s not making me do anything,” she says. “Restoring it was my idea.”

“Why would you do that?” This is Declan’s truck. At least it used to be.

“Because it’s a good truck.” She tucks the bandana into the back pocket of her coveralls. “And a lot of good things happened in it.”

“A lot of bad too.”

“You’re almost as bad as Con these days.” Tess laughs, but I can hear it. I hit a nerve.

Reaching through the open window, I scratch Shadrach behind her ear. She’s got to be nearly ten by now. “You bring your cat to work?”

“Sometimes.” She narrows her eyes at me for a second before shrugging. “Con’s not here.”

“Not looking for Conner,” I say, digging my hand into my pocket to pull out a set of car keys. “I need you to tune it up. New brakes. Tires. Whatever it needs to make a long-distance trip. Whatever it costs. I’ll cover it.”

She takes the keys from me and looks at Cari’s car parked outside. “What’s going on?”

“Cari’s leaving,” I say, bumping my fist against the window frame of the truck before I back away. “She’s moving home.”

This time when she narrows her eyes at me, they stay that way. “This is her home.”

“That’s what I said.” I laugh. I can’t help it. It’s either laugh or scream. “Look, I’ve gotta go. Don’t let her know I brought her car here. You know how she—”

“Tell her, Patrick,” she says, lunging forward to catch my arm, the keys in her hand digging into my elbow. “For fuck’s sake, quit being a pussy and just tell her already.”

“I did, Tess.” I take her by the wrist and pull myself free. “I told her I love her and it didn’t matter—it wasn’t enough. She’s leaving.”

She stares at me for a second, like she’s waiting for me to shout, gotcha! When I don’t, she’s the one who shouts. “Shit!”

I give her wrist a squeeze, telling her I’m sorry, before letting her go. “I’m closing the bar early tonight. Come by around eleven or so—you can help clear out the riffraff.” I grin at her. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“It is,” she says, her chin wobbling around the words for a second before she launches herself at me. “This is my fault.” Her face is smashed against my chest, arms around my waist. “I’m sorry, Cap’n—I should’ve minded my own damn business. Left shit between you two alone.”

I grip her by her arms and push her back. “Do you blame that stupid cat for what happened between you and Declan?”

Tess looks at me, stunned for a second before she understands what I’m saying to her. If not for Shadrach, there probably never would’ve been a Declan and Tess. “No,” she says, wiping tears off her face. “And Shadrach’s not stupid. She’s awesome.”

“So are you.” On impulse, I lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before I head out. “See you tonight,” I say over my shoulder. “Bring the cat.”