Jean leaned back on the pillow in his hospital bed, releasing another sigh.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Positive.”

“Clement—”

I groaned. “Jean. He’s learning. He also knows way more than you think. Remember me when I started? I couldn’t make toast without burning it, and the guy is an excellent cook. Good at administrative stuff, too. We have everything under control. We don’t need you.”

Jean huffed, waving his hand. “Of course you do.”

“As a friend. As my mentor. Not as a manager of the bistro I know like the back of my hand. Listen to the doctors and let them help you recover.”

“You don’t understand. I’m not used to,” he paused, sighing, “being useless. Everyone tiptoes around me all the time. I’d rather be in the bistro kitchen giving orders than receive them here.”

“You’re going home in a few days.”

“Can’t wait. And you?”

I got up from the chair by Jean’s bed and stretched. “What about me?”

“When are you going home?”

“Once I make sure you’re feeling better. Are you already fed up with me? I thought you were looking forward to having me here.”

Jean chuckled. “I used to be. Now I want you gone because you’re a pain in the neck. Besides, I told you to bring your girlfriend, and you didn’t.”

“Lou’s busy with work, but I promise you’ll meet her soon.”

“Busy with work, but not too busy to make an honest man out of you, right?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s not something we discussed. Not yet, at least.”

I wasn’t lying. Lou never mentioned marriage, only kids. She wanted to have them, and each time she brought it up, my stomach sank. 

I was a coward in more ways than one because telling her about my problem would give her another reason not to settle for someone like me, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. 

“You’re still young,” Jean said, reaching for the TV remote, “but you won’t be young forever. If you want to be a father—”

“Any news?” I nodded toward the TV. Jean was good at reading me and didn’t push. He meant well, but I’d rather discuss my traumatic past than the reason why I was taking supplements and hoping for a miracle.

“That bastard is still free.” He glanced at me. “If that’s what you mean by news.”

Since Lou and I started dating, I dedicated less time to scrolling through the news pages and more time to living, but I still checked. Still hoped karma would punish my mother’s husband without damaging my dad or his company. 

“Thierry.”

I looked at Jean. He muted the television and sat straighter. 

“Don't let that monster and what happened hold you back. And if you can't move on, maybe confessing what he did would lift the weight off your chest."

"Confessing and risking ruining my dad's business?"

"Your father's used to performing damage control, or Fauber Construction wouldn't be what it is today."

"This is supposed to be about you. And here we are, talking about my issues instead of yours."

Jean rolled his eyes. "I don't have issues. I just need to cook. And be the boss."

"You still are." I winked, heading toward the door. "Consider it as a much-needed vacation. And learn to delegate."

***

Jean's bistro was doing even better than years ago, and training his assistant proved to be an easy task. Despite that, I got home late every evening. I didn't want Jean to worry once he returned to work, and the only way to make sure he'd delegate stuff was to train Clement as well as I could.

Today, I entered my Dad's garden after nine p.m. He sat at a table with a glass of wine and his open laptop in front of him. 

"Hey," I said, pulling out a chair to sit next to my father. "Working still?"

"Reading the final draft of the contract for tomorrow's meeting." Dad rubbed his eyes.

"And Aiden?"

"Asleep." He chuckled. "He's worn out after the first week of work. Poor kid probably didn't expect he'd be so busy."

"Busy is good. He needs that. Is he adjusting well?"

Dad took a swig of his wine. "More than. He's eager to learn and proactive. Once Liam teaches him French, I'll give him more responsibilities. We did well by bringing him here. Everyone needs a fresh start."

I swept my eyes over Dad's garden and refocused on him.
"That's true. I'm glad things started to look up for him."

I also hoped they would look up for me as well. I couldn't change the past, but it was time I stopped letting it dictate my future.

October

The summer months passed in a blur. Jean was doing okay, and so was Aiden, who finally reunited with Ellie. Although he was mad at me for keeping them apart at first, he moved past that fast.

Lou and I basically lived together. She spent more time at my house than she did at hers. Of course, I wasn't complaining. Having her by my side had been the highlight of my days.

She was staying at my place tonight, too. We invited Samantha and Michael to dinner, and I planned to leave the bistro earlier to set up the grill.

"Do you think it's ready?" Marco stirred the sauce. 

"A couple more minutes," I said. "What else do we need to do?"

My assistant took a step back from the stove, adjusting his apron. "Not much else unless there are customers who didn't make a reservation, like that guy."

Through the kitchen doors, I caught a glimpse of someone I hadn't seen in a while.

Jim O'Brien glanced around the restaurant, shifting his weight. 

"I have to ask him for an autograph," Marco said. "Or ask him what gym he works out at because look at him."

Laughing, I took off my apron and walked out of the kitchen to greet Jim.

"Jim O'Brien honored us with his presence." I grinned. "It's been a while. Looking for a place to eat?"

Jim smirked. "And hide. Do you have anywhere private for me to have dinner?"

"One of the small banquet halls in the back. Let's go."

I led him to the unoccupied room and handed him a menu. "Tell me what you want, and Marco will bring it."

"Something fast," Jim said, sitting at one of the six tables for two. "I haven't eaten all day, and my fridge is empty. That was some Captain Obvious shit, but whatever."

He skimmed through the list of dishes and handed the menu back to me. "A steak with whatever you put on the plate. And water."

"No wine?"

He shook his head. "Driving. Plus, I'm exhausted."

I texted Marco and sat across from the frontman of Rebellious Hearts.

"How's it going?"

"Awesome." Jim crossed his arms. "Well, I'm also pissed at you for not telling me where Kennedy was. I ran into him in Paris. How fucking surreal is that?"

"He should've texted you. Did he tell you what happened?"

"Yeah. He and Ellie were at our shows. You probably know about his grand gesture."

"I do. I'm glad he saw you."

Jim drummed his fingers on the white tablecloth. "I'm glad he's doing great. He deserves it. He needed a break from all the shit."

"Everyone needs one from time to time."

"Isn't that the truth," Jim mumbled.

Marco entered the room and strolled toward us. He poured water into a glass and put the steak in front of Jim.

"Thank you." Jim rubbed his palms together and dug in right away.

Marco nodded and left the hall. He'd stay to chat, but several diners were waiting for their dishes.

"Do you want privacy to eat?" I asked.

"You're not a paparazzo." Jim stopped chewing and swallowed. "I only need a break from those. They've been especially annoying lately."

"I'm not surprised. You guys are everywhere. Nobody else is on the radio."

Jim huffed out a chuckle. "Right. It probably won't last."

"It will."

When he finished eating, Jim grabbed a napkin and pressed it to the corners of his mouth. "You know what? You need to teach me how to cook. I'll pay."

When I laughed, Jim cocked his head to the side. "What? I'm serious. I eat out almost daily because I'm a shitty cook. Lots of guys are like me. Haven't you thought about it?"

"Teaching you?"

"Cooking classes in general. For the single, busy, and useless. I bet lots of people would sign up."

"Maybe one day," I said.

Jim downed his water and jumped to his feet. "No. You have until November. Think about it and let me know when you're ready. Count on us to spread the word."

Jim might've said it as a joke, but I couldn't stop thinking about his words right until I parked in my driveway. Another source of income was never a bad idea, and I could expand the bistro to have more space. What if he was right, and that's something people might be interested in? Come to think of it, not many places in the city offered cooking classes on the regular. Only occasional master classes, and those never lacked attendees.

When the front door closed behind me, Lou came out of the kitchen, carrying a bottle of wine. 

"Merlot?"

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her forehead. "Sounds amazing. Don't tell me I'm late, and you started without me."

"They won't be here for another hour." Lou pressed her lips to mine. "I did nothing yet."

"Awesome. I'm the master of the grill, so that's my prerogative."

Louise trailed behind me as I headed to the backyard. I got busy with the grill, and she sat on a chair, sipping her wine.

"My daughter is acting shady."

I looked over at Lou. "Ellie?"

She winked. "No. Another one."

"You've been good at hiding her from me."

"Ellie, Ellie," Lou said. "Remember I was worried about her in June? She seemed pale to me. I worried she wasn't as happy there as she had told me. And today, it was just the opposite. She looked content and tanned. And it wasn't a spray tan."

I grabbed my glass of wine and took a gulp. "Could be the light."

Or the fact Ellie and Aiden were in Martinique on vacation, but saying that would equal having to disclose a bunch of other things I knew and Louise didn't. Like Aiden being in Paris. Them living together. Him almost killing himself. And Steve's lies.

"I want that light." Lou giggled. "And I want to go to Paris. You promised."

I approached Lou's chair and leaned down to brush her lips with mine. "I know. And we'll go there soon. But before that, I want you to listen to something one guy suggested today. I might do what he said, but I need you to tell me I'm not crazy."