was what changed. When he’d gotten so lost in his work, he’d forgotten his promise. When he’d stood her up for Times Square. Just like he’d done in Hawaii. Just like he’d done in the theater the day she tossed his phone down the chute. He needed her to toss his phone off the balcony this time.
But he couldn’t rely on Viola to set his work boundaries, that had to come from him. He’d blown it again.
His phone wouldn’t stop ringing, and he had to get out of here.
Leaving his phone on the table, he left his hotel room and took the elevator to the ground floor. He walked until he found the bench he and Viola had sat at—was it just yesterday—and eaten so much chocolate.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
Unbidden, thoughts of Marcus Tripp and his quote from the paper came to him. “I should have closed it ages ago and moved to Montgomery to be with my daughter while I could.” He’d lost the people he loved, regretting that he hadn’t spent more time with them.
But Pets and More, all that work, it was what was expected of him. It was his dad’s legacy.
He didn’t know any other way to live.
Someone sat beside him, and from the corner of his eye, Liam saw his brother Xander rest his forearms on his legs, and clasp his hands together, mirroring his own stance.
They sat in silence like that for several minutes, watching the cars drive by, listening to snippets of people’s conversations as they moved past them. Liam’s breath came out in cloudy puffs of air in front of him, but he’d hardly registered the cold air in his frustration.
Xander broke the silence first. “When we were young, really young, we went for a bike ride at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. We were maybe a mile from home when I fell off my bike and busted-up my knee. Do you remember that?”
Liam shook his head. They’d gone on so many bike rides in the country when they visited their grandparents.
“It wasn’t broken or even sprained, but there I was, bleeding and crying, when you hoisted my bike over one of your shoulders, balanced your bike over the other, and then held my hand the whole way home. When we got there, Grandpa helped get the bikes off your shoulders, and they’d cut into your skin. You’d bled through your shirt and hadn’t said a word.”
Liam stared down at his hands. That part, he did remember. His shoulders had killed for weeks.
“You need to put the bikes down, Liam.”
Liam turned to his brother with a lifted brow.
“You’re still trying to carry everything for everyone, hurting yourself in the process.”
“I have to run this business.”
“Why? Why do you have to run it?”
Liam felt a spark of anger, but it was smothered quickly under his exhaustion. “Are you going to run it?”
“No.”
“Someone has to, and that person is me.”
“Liam,” Xander said, sounding frustrated. “Sure, last quarter’s sales weren’t as good as we’d projected them to be, but as much as Fiona makes it sound like it’s because you left, that’s not it. We expected this with the new chain opening up.”
Liam dropped his head into his hands, feeling like it was going to split clean in two. “Yeah, but they shouldn’t be this low.”
Xander shifted on the bench, angling toward Liam. “Do you ever think about how many choices we made to prove something to Dad?”
Liam remained quiet, because they both knew the answer. Liam had been driven from a young age to please his dad, to prove that he was worthy of not only his love, but his respect and admiration. And by the end of his dad’s life, he’d earned that.
But at what cost?
“I’ve been trying to find a good time to tell you this for about six months,” Xander began, and Liam finally sat up straight and looked at his brother. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Pets and More.”
Liam’s heart pounded. “What are you saying?”
Xander met his gaze with a resolute stare. “I want out.”
“Out? What would you do?”
“I’d love to travel. Help Callie in her store. She’s got more business than she ever expected, and I’m not a half-bad baker. Maybe have some kids and actually spend time with them.”
It sounded impossible to Liam.
“And I think you should come with me,” Xander said. “We’ll step down together. Be honorary board members, or maybe not even that. Just close this chapter on our lives