Page 8 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

God, it felt good. Until the same eyes held annoyance and disdain as he threw me out of his apartment like a cheap slut. Now, he’s standing in my home, offering a polite smile devoid of recognition.

Does he really not remember? For a moment, I consider ignoring it. Maybe it’s good that he doesn’t remember. But the anger simmering inside me refuses to be quelled.

As Damon pushes open the door and steps into the house, I quickly grab Liam’s hand to hold him back.

“Sure you don’t remember me?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Really?” My question is laced with a dangerous edge. “Because I could swear we've met before.”

He shrugs. “Maybe we bumped into each other at the grocery store or something. You know how it’s a small world, even in Manhattan.”

His words are like lighter fluid to the inferno brewing inside me. “No,” I grunt, my voice firm. “This isn't some grocery store encounter. We spent a whole weekend together.”

A flicker of something crosses Liam’s features. The bastard remembers.

Damon pokes his head back outside. “Is there a problem here?”

“None.” Liam mumbles and walks into the house.

I want to scream. So, he’s going to pretend? Act completely clueless? No, that won’t work. The thought of letting him get away with this elaborate act is infuriating. He might have been in his playboy element back in New York, but this is my town, my turf, and I’m going to make him regret this.

I follow my brother and his friend to the dining table, seething with anger. Damon brings out a plate of snacks that June made. Then he walks to the counter, promising us he’ll whip up a quick meal. His back is to us as he hums a tune, oblivious to the thick tension in the air. Liam sits across from me, his eyes firmly fixed on his plate, avoiding mine as much as he can. I curse him silently, fuming at his gall to pretend he doesn’t know me.

“So, Emma,” Damon breaks the silence, “how’s life in New York? How’s work going?”

“It’s good,” I reply, forcing a smile. “Work keeps me busy. I get to meet a lot of interesting people.” I cast a pointed glance at Liam. He doesn’t look up, but I can see he catches my drift from the way his jaw tightens.

“Interesting people, huh?” Damon chuckles.

I lean back in my chair, picking at a piece of cake. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Some people are real pieces of work.” I look directly at Liam. “You’d be surprised at the kind of people you meet.”

Liam’s eyes flick up to mine for a brief second before he looks away. I can see the irritation in his expression, and it fuels my resolve to push him further.

“So, Damon, how did you and Liam become friends?”

Damon turns around, a spatula in hand. “Oh, thought I told you. We go way back. Met in the Navy SEALs. We’ve been through a lot together. Right, Liam?”

“Yeah,” Liam mutters, his voice low. “A lot.”

I nod, leaning forward. “Must be nice, having a friend who’s a good person.” I smile sweetly at Liam. “Though I suppose everyone has their secrets.”

Liam finally looks up, his eyes narrowing. “You’re right. Everyone does have their secrets.”

I shrug, taking another bite of cake. “So, Liam, how big is the secret you’re hiding from Damon?”

His mouth flattens into a thin line. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Emma.”

“Oh, I think you do,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Damon looks between us, finally sensing the underlying tension. “Hey, come on now. Let’s not start a fight. We’re all here to have a good time. We can all keep our secrets.”

“Of course, Damon,” I murmur, my gaze never leaving Liam’s. “Just making conversation.”

Liam’s eyes flash with anger, but he keeps his cool. “So, Emma, what’s it like planning weddings in the city? Must be stressful.”

“It has its moments,” I reply casually. “But I love what I do. It’s all about making sure the couple gets exactly what they want.” I lean forward, my eyes boring into his. “Making sure everything goes perfectly.”

---