“Look, this doesn’t have to be…” He trails off, and I can almost see him searching for the right word. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t really thinking when I first met you. There was a lot of ‘she’s over there, so now I want to be over there’ going on. But the more time I spent here, the more I liked it here. I like the people. I like your pub. I like you. I like you a lot. And I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want you to be sad or disappointed or angry because of me. So I chose you.” He blows out a breath. “And now my brother will probably kill me.”
