Page 46 of Back to Willow

“Right to the point, as always,” I say, flicking my eyes to his face...finally.

At the proper sight of him, I suck my breath in.

His dark blond hair seems even darker than it used to be. He always managed to have natural colour changes in his hair, making it much brighter in the summer and darker in the winter. I guess it makes sense, since autumn has arrived, and his hair is now a light brown colour. But his vibrant blue eyes are the same. The arctic-blue shade, which has always sucked me in, is a colour that every family member has, except for his mother who has green eyes.

The biggest difference I notice is his physique, of course. We were sixteen the last time I saw him, and even though he had always been bigger than me since we were like twelve, he is much taller and broader now. He’s filled out. He doesn’t have a face full of beard, but the light brown stubble is there, mainly around his mouth and chin. It’s a style that doesn’t flatter many men, but he rocks it so well.

Liam always rocked everything he did or wore; it’s not a surprise it hasn’t changed. He’s even more handsome, and it makes my heart beat faster like it’s ready to jump out my chest while my hands get clammy with sweat.

“And I’d appreciate you not wasting my time. You owe me this.”

“You’re right,” I answer while fiddling with my fingers.

Just then, the young guy comes back with the bottle, and I make sure to pay him. After a quick swig of it and still not being able to look him in the eyes, I admit, “I wanted to apologize…”

“What for?” he presses, wanting for me to speak for myself.

“For everything,” I whisper.

He scoffs and leans forward, a menacing look in his eyes. His words come out harsh, making me wince when he finally speaks, “That’s all you called me for? To say sorry? How about a fucking explanation!” His voice rises, and I instantly jump at it, shutting my eyes tightly.

The proximity, the harshness in his voice, it’s edging me. Triggering me. And in this situation, I can’t panic.

Not now, not in front of him.

He wouldn’t hurt me, too, would he?

My subconscious screams at me, telling me to flee right away, reminding me that no one is reliable. Especially men. My hands shake, and my eyes blur as I fight it.

It’s Liam.

He wouldn’t do anything. I know it, and I try to ground myself to it as my brain tries to bring those dreadful memories back.

“Please,” I breathe to myself, trying to stay in control.

When I open them again, he is looking at me with a frown, confusion etching his expression lines. It only lasts a second until his demeanour goes back to detached and cold again.

“Why did you leave?” he presses in a low angry hiss.

I take a couple of deep breaths and look down at my lap. How do I go about this?

“My parents threw me out. Not even Jake could reason with them to help me. My only option was my Nana. She told me I could live with her. I—” I pause, mustering up the courage to say as much as I can without touching the subject I’ll take with me to my grave. “I didn’t know what to do; they didn’t even let me bring clothes or my phone. The only thing I had was the money Jake gave me for the bus ticket.”

It isn’t the whole story but true, nonetheless. I’m not ready to bring Dylan into this or how he came to life.Not yet.

“That’s bullshit. You could have come to me, and you know it. You could have stayed with me,” he countered.

And I know it’s true. He was the first person I thought I’d go to. Liam always made me feel like he would have gone through hell and back to take care of me if needed. I believed it then. But how fair was it to put such a burden on his shoulders?

He had—still has—his future ahead of him. I would have turned into an obstacle, a thorn in his parent’s side.

And even without them in the equation, even if they accepted me. How could I, after everything that was done? Or everything he was already going through?

I remember it like it was yesterday, the relief in his eyes every time we spent time together. The way his eye bags would slightly disappear when he took naps, cuddling me. Life inside the four walls of his house wasn’t as perfect as his parents made it out to be, and he was hurting. He hurt for them all, for…

Oh god.

He had told me time and time again, I was the only good thing in his life. And I ripped it right away from him.

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