And I can’t wait to be there by her side when she does. I have basically retired from working at this point – I do a little writing on the side, trying to make sense of my life by putting all the pieces together in a story, but that’s slow work. I’m in no rush to get it done. I’m not even sure that I’ll put it out there when I’m done, given how personal it is. Bailey is always encouraging me to share it, but truthfully, I’m writing it for me. Writing it to wrap my head around the man I used to be, and the one that I am now.
Because the one that I am now is the one that I always wanted to be. The one that I dreamed of being when I first fell in love with her, almost two decades ago now. That is the man I know I am best at being – a husband, a father, part of a family who cares for one another and is willing to do everything they can to look out for each other.
"You ready to get going?" she asks me. The event starts in a few minutes, but frankly, I am in no rush to get down there.
"I think we can spare a little more time yet," I murmur, and I close my eyes and lean in towards her. She smiles against my kiss and I pull her in close, and, in that moment, I know that I could spend the rest of the night with her and only her, and I would be happy.
Because she is all I need. She is all I have ever needed. And all that matters is that I never forget it.
1
There are only a few things that can get me off my mountain.
Weddings. Funerals. The birth of a baby.
And, apparently, my brother’s engagement party.
I take a drink of my whiskey, scanning the swanky restaurant where we’re going to be served a six-course meal. The place is stuffy. Overpriced. And not even mildly entertaining. There’s no one here I’m interested in making small talk with, and certainly no one I’m interested in taking home tonight.
“Do you think you could look more irritated?” Taylor asks, standing beside me, shoulder to shoulder. We may be brothers, but we couldn’t be more opposite. Taylor is business suits and cufflinks and courtrooms. And he’s boring as fuck. His idea of a good time is walking around Pottery Barn.
Me? I’m flannel shirts and fresh air. Blood, sweat, and tears have been my motto for the past three years, ever since I left Denver and made my way to the Yukon Territory. Determined to stake my claim in the world, on my own terms.
Working for the man might work for a guy like Taylor, but I’m not him.
Of course, my sort of “life plan” pisses everyone off—honestly, I’m guessing that’s because they are jealous little fuckers, sick of the daily grind they’ve indebted themselves to.
My brother has never been out to see where I live and what I do. And I like it that way. Let them talk about me; shit, no one else’s words define me.
“I’m not irritated,” I tell him before finishing my whiskey. “I’m just bored. You said this was an engagement party? I’m still looking for the party, brother.”
My brother knows I’m giving him a hard time—I like parties just about as much as I like having a boss.
“Well, then you just keep standing here drinking your bourbon, looking pretty,” Taylor teases. “Meanwhile I’ll go talk to Sophia’s parents. Have you met them yet?”
I cock an eyebrow at my brother. He might be six years younger than me but he's always been the bossier one.
I scoff, “You think I talked with your fiancée’s parents? Who the hell do you think I am?”
Taylor shakes his head. “I know, sometimes I just... Her parents are very nice and it’s nice to see a nice family.”
“You think you can squeeze another nice into that sentence?” I know what my brother’s getting at, though. We lost our parents when we were young; were shuffled around from foster home to foster home for years.
I was old enough to pull myself up by my bootstraps and keep Taylor under my wing. I had plenty of guilt over the whole situation, but I knew Taylor needed me, so I did well by him.
Taylor though, being younger, always missed having a mom and dad. I see it when his eyes narrow, and for a second I feel like shit for not offering him more of a family myself.
Leaving like I did for Canada, it probably fucked him up more. But Taylor was in law school when I left for the Yukon, he had his life mapped out and he knew how to take care of himself. And he has.