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“Ah,” Luke said, nodding slowly, his face taking on the reflective look of someone who’d seen his fair share of heartbreak across the bar top. “And I take it that’s not sitting well with you?”
“It’s sitting like a lead weight.” I pushed the fries around my plate. “I think we’re broken up at the moment.”
With one brow arched, Luke mixed a gin and tonic. “You don’t know?”
“I never know how hard to push her! I’ve been patient, supportive. But her walls… they’re skyscrapers, and I’m starting to wonder if I brought enough dynamite.”
“Maybe it’s not about blowing them down,” Luke suggested, his gaze flickering over to the array of bottles lined up like soldiers ready for battle. “Maybe it’s about finding the door.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one trying to figure out the combination to a lock that keeps changing.” I took another swig of my beer, the bitterness mirroring the tang of frustration on my tongue.
“I’ve known Stella for a long time,” he said, shrugging. “She’s always been focused on her career. And maybe she’s scared of you. You know, of getting hurt again. After all, history does have a penchant for repeating itself.”
“Except when people learn from it,” I countered.
“True. But learning that takes time. And trust.” Luke’s voice was soft but carried the weight of truth, much as I hated to admit that.
“Time’s one thing I’ve got, but trust? That’s a two-way street. And right now, it feels like I’m stuck at a red light.”
“Maybe you need to give her a reason to hit the gas pedal.” His eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and wisdom.
“How am I supposed to do that?” I didn’t bother to keep the edge from my voice.
“You, my man, need a grand gesture.” Luke leaned on the bar, a knowing smile creasing his face.
“Grand what?” I frowned, racking my brain for any medical condition that sounded similar. I was pretty sure he’d said gesture, not seizure. Though I felt like I was about to have a seizure.
“Gesture, Aiden. Grand gesture.” He rolled his eyes as if I’d missed the punchline of a joke. “You know, like in romance movies.”
“What in the hell are you talking about? Since when have you been into romance movies?”
Luke grinned and began wiping down the counter with a rag that had seen better days. “My ex-girlfriend was a fanatic for those films. Made me watch tons of them. According to her—and Hollywood, I guess—a grand gesture is some kind of over-the-top act you do to prove your love. It’s about going the extra mile, doing something unexpected and meaningful.”
“Sounds… exhausting.” And unnecessary.
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “But it doesn’t have to be jumping out of a plane with a banner. It’s about showing you understand her—what she cares about, what makes her tick. It’s about pushing past your comfort zone.”
“Comfort zones are there for a reason,” I muttered, but I couldn’t shake the image of Stella’s hesitancy, the way her eyes darted away when things got too close for comfort.
“Exactly. And sometimes, you need to step out of that comfort zone to show someone they’re worth it. You two have a long and not very pretty history, Aiden. And it affected her badly. I’ve never been best friends with Stella, but I’ve never seen her in a serious relationship. Maybe she’s waiting for you to show her how much you’ve changed. Now you’ve gotta ask yourself—Is she worth the risk?”
Hell yes, she was. And I knew it.
I’d caused that hesitancy, that fear in her. I’d left those deep scars, and no one else. “All right.” I sighed, capitulating to the whimsical notion. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what does a grand gesture look like in real life? And don’t tell me I have to rent a billboard or hire a skywriter.”
He just laughed and went back to wiping out glasses. “Just think about what Stella loves, what’s important to her. Make it personal. Tailor it to the woman you know she is.”
After thumping my pint down on the bar, a scowl etched itself deeper on my face. I glared at my half-eaten burger, the comfort it once promised now suffocated by exasperation. “Wait a minute, dammit. Why should I be the one doing all this soul-baring? She’s the one who went an entire week without contacting me… the one who pushed me away.” The words left my mouth more accusatory than I intended, betraying the hurt beneath the anger.
Luke leaned in as if sharing an ancient secret that men have passed down through generations. “Because, Aiden, it’s always the guy. Even when the woman screws up too. It’s our cross to bear, man.” His laughter rang out again, carefree and knowing.
“Cross to bear?” I repeated, incredulous. “What is this, the Middle Ages? Since when did modern love become a chivalry contest?”
“Since always,” he shot back with a quick wink, then began rattling off examples like a seasoned professor lecturing on the art of love. “Think Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything, standing outside with the boombox over his head. Or that dude who learned Portuguese in Love Actually.”
“Who the hell is Lloyd Dobler? I don’t even know what you’re talking about. This is real life.” I massaged my temples. My gaze drifted to the array of liquor bottles lined up behind the bar, each reflecting the dim light like gemstones.
“Exactly, man. Life imitates art, or is it the other way around?” Luke shrugged and leaned back against the counter. “Point is, you need to show Stella how well you understand her. That you’re willing to take a risk for her. You gotta find your boombox, man.”
