Ever since Andy walked into Dreamin’ Beans the day he found Heather with another man in their bed, I’ve not been able to get him out of my head. The anger I could almost feel coming off him in waves. The dejection and sadness was so palpable, I knew I had to give him a glimpse of my story. Help him know that he’s not alone.

We haven’t spent any time alone, but we have seen each other quite a bit.

At the high school football games.

Chatting briefly when he’s come in to get coffee.

Soon after he left Heather, he stayed with Barrett and Tess for a week before finding a place more permanent.

I know he went over to their house for Thanksgiving.

And his boys had a birthday recently.

Andy had posted some stuff about their big day on his social media pages, which I’ve been stalking like a creeper.

Because I suddenly can’t get the man out of my head no matter what I do.

Christmas is just around the corner, the weather is cold, and the coffee shop is busier than ever. It’s about thirty minutes from closing time, and it’s finally died down for the night, giving me a few moments to clean up behind the counter.

The door opens, allowing a cool gust of wind in along with Andy. His black beanie pulled down low makes his already dark-rimmed eyes look even darker. Even covered by the beanie, I can tell that his hair has grown out some since the last time I saw him, the almost-black strands softly curling out from under it.

He stomps off the snow stuck to his brown boot-covered feet, strides over to the counter, eyes on me the entire time. His jeans hug his thighs as he walks toward me.

I realize it’s not the right time to be having these thoughts, but holy crap he looks good.

“Hey, Christine.”

I swallow at the intensity of the look on his face. “Hey Andy, how’s it going?”

He stares at me for a few beats, not answering.

“Andy?”

His hands spread across the counter, and he leans in close. “Wanna get out of here?”

His question stuns me, but only for a moment.

“Sure.”

He raps his knuckles on the counter twice then nods his head toward the door.

“Emma, I’m out of here for the night!” I holler to the back room without taking my eyes off Andy. “Can you finish up here?”

“Sure thing! See you tomorrow!”

Without another word, I follow Andy out the front door. It’s December in Michigan, but I don’t even take the time to grab my coat. For reasons I don’t understand, I know that he’ll not leave me out in the cold, so right now it’s the least of my concerns.

He holds the passenger door open for me, and I climb in, but before closing it he stares at me again. I let him for a moment before wrapping my fingers around his hand that’s resting on the door.

He looks at my hand on his and swallows hard. His Adam’s apple rising and falling.

“Hey. Let’s go for a drive,” I tell him quietly.

He slowly nods his head a few times before closing the door and rounding the hood.

Once he’s in the seat and we’re both buckled up, he backs out of his parking spot and heads out of town.

He reaches over and pushes the button that looks like a seat warmer on the dash to switch on my heated seat and turns the channel on the radio. It’s set to a country station but the music is turned down so low I can barely make anything out.

The near silence should bother me. Make me nervous.

It doesn’t.

“The boys gone tonight?”

“Spending the night with a bud.”

I relax into my seat, resting my head on the headrest, and look out the window. We pass through the town slowly, admiring the Christmas lights that twinkle both inside and outside of homes. A few snowmen are proudly on display in front yards from the early snowstorms we’ve received.

We drive past my best friend Carly’s house. It’s lit up beautifully. Classy. Tastefully. Just like her.

“She did a nice job,” he comments.

I hum in agreement. “She had help.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod his head thoughtfully.

“James?”

“Yeah. They’re getting close. I like him for her. He’s breaking down some pretty thick walls she’s built up.”

“From what Barrett has said, he’s fallen pretty hard for her.” His voice sounding much lighter than his actions are showing.

A few months ago, Tess had her brother James stay at their house while they spent a week in a cabin. While they were gone, their seven-year-old daughter Harper fell from the horse she was riding during lessons. James brought Harper to school the next day to make sure her teacher was aware of what happened, and that’s when he met Carly. To say he became immediately smitten of Harper’s first grade teacher is a little of an understatement.

Andy’s hand is wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel, it’s causing his knuckles to turn white, and the rigid way he’s sitting in his seat can’t be remotely comfortable. I want so badly to reach over and release his hold and help him relax, but I don’t feel it’s within my rights. We’re just friends.

“She has too,” I admit on her behalf. “But she’s scared. Not even sure she’s fully admitted it to herself yet. I don’t know why, but I think he’ll wear her down, figure out why she’s so guarded.”

“If he’s anything like his sister, he won’t stand aside for long. He’ll bully his way in,” he chuckles.

I giggle. “In the nicest way possible, so she doesn’t even realize it. They’re good people.”

“They are.”

He turns into an empty parking lot and puts the pickup in park, the lake a wide-open blanket of darkness in front of us, just the moon glistening off the water.

“Barrett told me this is a good place to sit and think.”

“It’s beautiful.” I look around us. Trees line one side of the parking lot, the lake two sides, and the drive entry we came in the other.

The docks are pulled onto the parking lot, not that many people have a desire to put their boat in the frigid water this time of year.

He doesn’t turn off the pickup, but he unlatches his seatbelt, and I do the same.

We sit in comfortable silence for about ten minutes, listening to the low crooning sounds of the music in the background.

Andy clears his throat and looks at me, adjusting in his seat nervously.

“Speaking of Barrett… I’m a terrible friend, Christine. How are you doing with everything?”

He doesn’t need to explain what he’s talking about.

Shortly after all his crap went down with Heather, I had my own family drama occur. Bri was at a field party with Grady, not too different than any other weekend.

Except this weekend?

Everything was different.

Another kid in their class, Dawson, decided he’d had enough rejections from Bri and thought he’d push his luck.

That luck though? Not so great.

Considering Grady’s friends saw how Dawson got physical with Bri. Unfortunately, Grady ended up going to jail for beating the ever loving shit out of Dawson, rightfully so.

Bri’s decision to not press charges against Dawson was something both Grady and I fought her on. She made a deal with the devil, so to speak, and told Dawson that if he didn’t press charges, neither would she.

Something good did come out of it, though.

Grady finally stepped up, and they’ve been dating ever since.

“I’m… okay. And you’re far from a bad friend, Andy. We both had our own junk going on when that happened.”

“Still, I should have called, or something.”

“Please. No guilt, okay? Not worth it. I didn’t think a thing of it. We’re good. Bri’s moved on, and she and Grady are finally dating and happy. Dawson hasn’t even so much as looked in her direction, either. I think Grady made his point.” I laugh lowly.

“I bet he did,” Andy murmurs.

Once again, we settle into the silence. The warmth of his pickup cab wrapping around me. I snuggle into the seat and sigh. Not out of annoyance but out of contentment.

“Does it still bother you?”

His voice is so low, so quiet, I almost don’t hear him. If I hadn’t been so attuned to his presence next to me, I probably would have missed it. He doesn’t specify what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter. I understand.

“Him stepping out, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever not be bothered by it. Right when it happened, it almost got swallowed up by our new life. Doctor visits. Chemo. Radiation. Knowing that no matter how hard he fought, the end would still be the same. I didn’t allow myself time to really digest the fact that he had sex with another woman. Didn’t really feel the sting of his betrayal.”

He scoffs. “Betrayal.”

I nod my head. “It’s hard, you know? Not knowing what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in on them. If it would have continued or been a one-time thing. Of course, he assured me over and over again that it was a stupid mistake — which, obviously…” I breathe out a laugh and roll my eyes.

“Well I guess there’s a bright and dark side to everything.”

“There really is. It’s part of why I had such a hard time opening Dreamin’ Beans. It was guilt money. You know? Or, that’s how I looked at it. It was just hard to take, but when I got to thinking about it, I thought, well hell yeah, I’ll take it. I mean, I deserved it. Bri deserved to have some sort of legacy.”

He thinks for a moment on everything I just told him.

I like that he’s not yelling in my defense or getting angry. He’s just listening.

“When Heather cheated, I couldn’t see any future where I wasn’t riddled with hurt and anger. Honestly, I thought I would die a bitter and pissed off old man, yelling at kids from my front porch and stabbing people with my cane,” he tells me grinning, and I laugh lowly. “But soon I started to realize that life is a bitch. We were never guaranteed this life here to be easy. And as much as I would like to blame her, be pissed forever, keep my boys from her, it’s just not in me. The bitterness has been taking over my life, Christine. Just like you said it would, and I realized that it was hurting me more than her. And the boys. I was becoming an ass to live with.”

“Andy… no. That’s not true.”

“Oh, it is,” he says, nodding his head and scrubbing a hand down his face. “The boys even asked me why I was always so mad, and the guys at work? They’re on pins and needles around me.”

“You’ve been through a lot.” I nod my understanding.

He leans his head back against the headrest and taps his thumb on the center console of his pickup. “It’s not easy to move on though, is it?”

I slide my feet out of my dark brown Uggs and tuck one leg under the other, turning to face him. The side of my head rests against the back of the seat, and I keep my voice quiet. “No, it is definitely not.”

“But when you do, man it’s like the most freeing thing in the world. To be rid of that anger, that hurt, and… her.”

I swallow and roll my lips together before asking, “So if she came crawling back?”

There’s no hesitation in his answer. “I have no desire. I mean, what’s that teaching my boys? I know forgiveness and all that… blah blah blah… but honestly? Is that only teaching them that it’s totally okay to screw over the ones you love most and just beg for forgiveness later? It’s like that old crappy saying, I’d rather ask forgiveness than permission. What kind of bullshit is that? It’s awful, the worst saying in the world. Yet that’s what we seem to live by because, yeah, we need to forgive. I get that. I’ve forgiven. Or, almost, anyway.” He smirks before continuing. “I’ve moved on. I’ve not forgotten, and I never will. I also know that I deserve more than that. I deserve a wife who’s willing to give me exactly what I’m willing to give her. Everything. It just is what it is, you know?”

“And the boys? How do they feel about everything that’s happening? Do you think they want her back home?”

“Oh, they would probably kick my ass if I even dreamed of taking her back. I hate that for them. In the beginning, she was a good mom. I’d never deny that. For a few years, anyway. She turned, though. Nothing was ever enough for her. She felt stuck and in feeling that, she hurt my boys.”

The words he just quietly admitted have me gasping. “Wait. They knew?”

He winces slightly then lifts one shoulder and drops it. “She wasn’t good at hiding her discontent. It wasn’t lost on them that they were more of a burden than a blessing to her.”

“Oh, Andy…”

“She dug that hole, and I’m not throwing the dirt on her or anything, but she’s gonna need to be the one who picks up that shovel or builds the ladder to get herself out of it. They deserve a mom who’s willing to throw everything in to get them back and right now, she’s just simply not doing the work.

“I don’t know — maybe she doesn’t give a shit. But if she doesn’t, then I want her gone. Even more than she is already. She left without even looking back. We’ll see what she says when we meet for the divorce proceedings.”

My head jerks up at his mention of divorce and he notices. “Yeah, my lawyer is drawing up the papers now. She hasn’t come around, Christine. She hasn’t called. Doesn’t seem to even give a shit. Who does that? They turned fourteen and not even a text was sent to either of them. It blows my mind. She lost her right and, as shitty as it sounds, we’ve been better off. Even with my anger that can’t seem to dim, the boys seem happier without her. Still sucks, though.”

“I hate to break it to you, but it’s gonna suck for a while. Those boys—“

“Need a woman in their lives who is going to teach them the things their dad can’t,” he finishes for me. “Every boy needs a mama. Just like Bri needed to have that fatherly figure, and thank God for Barrett, right?”

I smile at the thought of how much the Ryan men have meant to us, what they’ve done in our lives. “Oh man. Right? He’s been so good for her, and having Grady and Cole around is amazing. Obviously, Grady’s role is a tad different.” We both laugh, knowing that Grady and Bri were friends for many years before recently bridging the gap into a relationship. “We’ve made it fine. That’s not to say she doesn’t still and won’t always miss her dad. No one can replace one’s parent, you know? But, I think in some cases, that’s not an option.”

He turns in his seat, facing me. My head rolls to the side, looking back at him. It’s a position we find ourselves in often, I’m noticing. It feels intimate, especially with the soft looks he gives me. When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with compassion and curiosity, not pity. “Do you ever think about what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten sick?”

I press my lips together and close my eyes briefly, remembering the nights I lay awake thinking that exact same thing. Sometimes crying myself to sleep. Sometimes angrily stomping through the house cleaning on a rampage. “I used to. I don’t anymore.”

“Why?”

“The only thing I have keeping me from going there is knowing that whatever he had with her was over before it really got started. At least on his end. He had made it clear to her that he wanted to cut ties. I know it makes me sound weak or gullible, but I believed him when he told me that it meant nothing to him. And I don’t want to wonder if it would have happened if he hadn’t been worried about the diagnosis he had just received.”

“Doesn’t make you sound weak. You trusted your instincts. Still, though, that’s rough,” he mumbles.

I shrug my shoulders but can’t deny that. “No rougher than walking in on him with someone. Or her, in your case.”

“That did suck, gotta admit.” He grins and shakes his head. “Dunno. I’m glad I did. The image is burned into my head, so that part sucks, but seeing is definitely believing, I’ll just say that. I was living too much in denial until I saw it.”

“No one blames you for that, though. And you shouldn’t blame yourself. You were living that way because you cared about your boys. I had a lot of denial afterward, too. I was so worried about Bri finding out and threw myself into caring for him during his illness. There’s not an instruction manual on how to handle it, Andy. The boys are happy and adjusting well, from what I understand.”

He nods in agreement and rests his head on the headrest, mimicking my posture.

For long moments, we sit in silence before he reaches over the center console and wraps his hand around mine, the only sound in the cab of the pickup our breathing. Our fingers naturally link together, and he stares at them resting on his console for a moment before lifting his eyes to me. “Can I ask what changed?”

“What do you mean?” he asks me, eyes bunching up.

“You said that you decided not to let the bitterness take over.”

The way he looks at me, like he’s examining me, taking everything in, almost makes me squirm in my seat. He bites his bottom lip, and I see the white of his teeth.

“You really wanna know?”

My heart rate picks up at the way he’s looking at me. The way his thumb is brushing across the top of my hand. I bite my lip, and his eyes drift to my mouth. “I do.”

“You.”

I take a deep breath, letting that simple statement wash over me. “Me?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“You,” he repeats quietly. “When I walked into Dreamin’ Beans that night, you told me to be happy. And every time I’m around you, I feel this lightness. When the boys asked me the other night why I was so short with them, I realized that I was letting her win. She doesn’t deserve it. And my boys definitely don’t deserve it.”

He releases a shuddering breath and squeezes my fingers. I try not to wince at the pressure.

“Andy…” I try to keep pity from my voice, but everything about this is breaking my heart.

The fact that he feels so lost, like a failure to his boys.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. It’s just… the holidays and everything. I guess life is catching up to me. Too much time on my hands to think when we’re in our slower season at work, too. I’m sorry for dumping this on you.”

I try not to dwell on the fact that he called me sweetheart. “Don’t be. I’m glad you stopped in tonight.”

“Me, too.” He pauses then smiles at me, seeming to snap out of his sullen manner. “So, how long do you think Carly plans to leave James in the friend zone?”

A laugh bubbles out of me unexpectedly. He does the change in subject thing amazingly well. “He has it bad, doesn’t he?”

“Sounds that way, though I haven’t spent much time with the guy. But, of course, Josh and Barrett talk about it all the time like a couple of high schoolers.”

I burst out laughing. “They’re so nosey.”

He smiles my way, and I know.

The boys are going to be just fine.

Because Andy is going to be just fine.

Better than fine.

And hopefully.

One day.

He’ll be happy again.