Favourite Hello. Hardest Goodby - E.S. Carter Page 0,13

safely in the boot, and after a quick and awkward change in the back of the car, I’m no longer wearing my suit.

More by luck than judgement, I grabbed a plain white t-shirt and dark blue jeans—basic but wearable. Even if the shirt is a touch on the small side and clings to every inch of skin on my chest, and the jeans are made for someone with rugby player thighs and not a runner, like me.

When I get back to Lily Bay, I find a parking spot a little closer to the pub and sit back in my seat to watch the comings and goings of the town.

Every bit of me aches to rush inside Safe Harbour, but there’s also a part of me that wants to draw this out.

This first meeting can only happen once. It’s almost a sweet torture to delay, to anticipate. Although first is the wrong description for us. We’ve had so many firsts—so many, and yet never enough.

Evening revellers fill the street as they stroll arm-in-arm out of restaurants, or laugh and talk too loudly in boisterous groups while making their way from one pub to another. I marvel at this place, picturing his life here, needing to fill in the gaps, wanting to find out everything about him.

With dusk on the horizon, I lock up the car and, suitcase in hand, return to Safe Harbour.

Inside is still busy, although most people are now finishing their evenings with drinks rather than ordering food, and the vibe feels different from earlier. It’s that warm winding down atmosphere, everyone with full bellies and an easiness in their chests, sitting back to chat, laugh, linger, and savour the end of a wonderful early summer day.

I find a seat at the bar, slip my suitcase on the floor at my feet, and order a glass of Courvoisier, hoping to take the edge off the bubbling expectation in my veins.

The barkeeper pays me no more or less attention than he does the other customers. He’s polite and friendly but doesn’t linger after placing my drink on a fresh coaster in front of me.

The first sip of brandy slides over my tongue and leaves a welcoming heat in my throat, but it does nothing to quell the ever-present pulse in my veins. Only one thing will do that—seeing him.

As if summoned, the door at the end of the long bar swings open and Iris walks out, followed by Ellis.

I close my eyes briefly, inhale a deep breath and turn on my stool to watch them approach. To say this moment is one I’ve yearned for would be an understatement. I knew that the first time we officially met would be a defining moment—one I’ve waited for since I was a small boy.

Restless energy flows through me, and I nervously run my palms over my denim-clad thighs in a rare feeling of insecurity. But I don’t have time to ponder my uncharacteristic nerves for long because shortly after Iris spots me, a wide grin spreading across her pretty face, so does he.

When Ellis’s dark blue gaze locks with mine, the taut ball of energy inside me evaporates. The world seems to stop. Calmness rushes over me like a cool balm, and I know, in that instant, he feels it, too.

How could he not? What we share is too much, too resilient, too infinite to be ignored or dismissed.

I watch as his confident steps waver slightly, his eyes widening just a touch, and his full lips open on a shaky inhale. But it’s his stare that tells me everything. Despite his brief hesitancy, he knows.

No, he doesn’t know me. I am a stranger to him. But he feels it.

Connection. Tether. Us. Always us.

“Macsen Evans, this is Ellis Probert, my cousin and owner of Safe Harbour.”

I manage to tear my gaze away from Ellis to acknowledge Iris as she introduces us, and then, once more, my eyes find his. I hold out my hand in greeting, desperately needing that first touch of his skin on mine.

Whereas he initially looked a little startled, now his blue eyes have narrowed slightly, his gaze piercing and more acute, and instead of his first words being a greeting, he says, “Do I know you? Have we met before?”

My hand hovers in mid-air, and I want to say ‘Yes, you know me. Can’t you see?’ I want to close the distance between us, pull him close and say, ‘It’s me. I’ve missed you. So fucking much.’ But Ellis

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