The fact was, he blamed himself for what happened with Henry. He hadn’t wanted his fiancé to take the job, hadn’t agreed with it, but he’d kept his mouth shut and smiled, nodding at the appropriate places. He’d never voiced his opinions on what Henry and Temple did because Vik had met Henry doing the mercenary stuff—whatever that entailed since Henry had never provided details and Vik never asked—and he couldn’t very well ask the man to change. So he would always kiss Henry goodbye with a smile and make him promise to come back to him in one piece.
He did.
Except for that last time.
Snow crunched under his feet as he walked from his house over to The Java Bean. He’d chosen to make the trip on foot instead of driving like he usually did. The air was blistery cold, making his nose burn and his eyes water, but he didn’t mind it. Usually, he strolled on the bank of the lake near his house every morning, no matter the temperature.
He wanted to see Temple.
Two years was long enough. He owed that man an apology.
He crossed the street when he noticed a man dressed as Santa Claus headed his way. He’d taken his love of Christmas from childhood into adulthood, something Henry had indulged with a smile and shake of his head.
Decorating the day after Thanksgiving. A Christmas tree in damn near every room of their large house.
Parties.
Baking.
All of it.
But with Henry gone, none of it mattered.
The first holiday after Henry’s death, he greedily accepted his large family’s invite to be with them back home in Buffalo. He hadn’t wanted to be alone, but that turned out to be a disaster. When he wasn’t off in a corner sullen and silent, he was crying and bringing down everyone’s vibe. He’d packed his bags and left the day after Christmas. Since then, he’d dodged every hint at him returning. His parents understood, though. He tried to check in on them, and his two younger sisters, at least once a week. It wasn’t their fault that he didn’t want to be around anyone during this time of year.
He was doing better now, but he still had a long way to go. Thankfully, The Java Bean was doing exceptionally well, and opening the new location, dealing with everything that entailed, helped to keep his mind off sadder topics.
Or it did until Temple reappeared in his life two days ago.
Where had he been these past couple of years? He’d sold his cabin, so it didn’t appear as if he’d planned on returning to Hadley Cove.
Except he was back.
It was a good thing, though. Vik didn’t deserve it, but the only thing he wanted for Christmas was Temple’s forgiveness, which he’d beg for as soon as he saw him at the coffee shop.
The staff behind the counter all froze momentarily when he entered with a jingle of the bells, but he ignored them, standing in line just like everybody else to place his order. Seeing him again, so soon after the last time, had to be surprising. More often than not, he showed up only once a week, if that. The managers and staff had everything well in hand and he was proud that the business ran smoothly without much need for him to be hovering. He didn’t like hovering. He’d done enough of that in his old job as an ad exec.
Hated it.
He ordered and paid for his salted caramel pumpkin chai latte and took a seat at the same table Temple had occupied the other day. Since Ginger and the others said he stopped by every day at a specific time, Vik chose to come in a few minutes earlier to wait for him.
He sipped his drink and waited, right leg bouncing under the table. Christmas song after Christmas song played. His drink went from hot to cold to done.
Temple didn’t show.
Vik waited for two hours until his butt went numb. Then he got up and went in the back to avail himself of the facilities in the bathroom of the office he rarely used.
When he was done, he sat for another hour, munching on a slice of sugar cookie crumb cake.
Temple didn’t appear.
“Ginger.” He motioned to the manager behind the counter. When she came over, he asked, “Dude who always comes in. Blue eyes and the beard…” She nodded enthusiastically. “Has he been in today?”
No.” She cocked her head. “Actually, he didn’t show up yesterday, either.”
Shit. Seeing Vik again had likely spooked him. Damn. He got up and dusted off his hands, thanking Ginger and waving goodbye on his way out.
He walked back to the house, the collar on his coat turned up, hands in his pockets. If he were Temple, he probably wouldn’t have shown up either, after realizing that Vik owned The Java Bean. Hadn’t Vik screamed at him to get out and stay out of his life that day? Hadn’t he called Temple a killer?
Liquid leaked out of his eyes and he couldn’t tell if that was because of his memories or the harsh wind lashing him in the face. By the time he made it home, his shoulders were hunched and his toes were cold.
He dropped onto the couch, burrowing under the heavy blanket his Aunt Tatty had knitted for him. He missed his family, but he couldn’t be around them. He missed Henry, but he couldn’t have him. Who he wanted to see was Temple, but clearly, the other man didn’t feel the same.
Vik stayed on the couch until night fell then got up and checked the time on his phone. Just after seven and he was restless. The weight of what he needed to do wouldn’t allow him to put it off any longer, so he got up from the couch and made his way up to the bedroom, picking up Henry’s old phone from the bedside drawer. Temple had left it with him that fateful day, along with Henry’s wallet and the other little things he’d had on his person when he—
Normally, Vik would turn it on to stare at the pictures of him and Henry, but today he scrolled through Henry’s contacts. There weren’t a lot of people there. Henry’s circle was small, just the way he liked it. But Vik’s number was there under Vee, his pet name for Vik. And Temple’s number was also there.
At least the number Temple had two years prior.
He didn’t know if it still worked, Vik doubted it, but he still inputted the number into his own phone and dialed. It rang and his heart leaped. Okay, so it was working, but did it still belong to—
“Yeah?”
He blinked. It was Temple. There was no missing the shudder he always got when Temple spoke.
“Hello?”
“Yeah. Um.” Vik swallowed. “Temple?”
He heard the other man’s inhale. “Vik?” His surprise too. “Is that you?”
“Yeah. I got your number off Henry’s old phone.” He sank onto the bed, one hand rubbing his left knee restlessly. “I wasn’t sure if it remained the same or if it even belonged to you anymore…”
“Yeah, it does.” Temple paused. “What do you need? Why are you calling?”
“Can you come to the house? I’d like to—We should talk.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Temple said slowly. It was clear that he was confused, but he didn’t ask questions. “Give me fifteen?”
“Okay.” Vik hung up and took a deep breath as his gaze fell on the picture of Henry on the nightstand. He’d put away most of Henry’s things, chucking them in one of the spare rooms so they’d be out of his sight. He couldn’t bear to get rid of them completely, but he also couldn’t have them underfoot and right in his face. All he kept out was Henry’s phone and that picture of them on the nightstand.