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“Everything alright?” Arthur asks, bringing my attention back to him and my sleeping kid.

“Yes.” I smile weakly. “It will be.”

I’ll make sure of it.

He carries Dylan to the car, strapping him down safely next to me in the back. The drive is quick, only around twenty minutes until we get to my house. For most of the ride, we keep silent, seemingly with the understanding that I need it.

And, of course, my brain keeps dragging me back to think of Liam and all of my fears. After everything and how passionate we were last night, it’s safe to say I’m ruined for any other man that walks the earth.

At this point, it no longer matters if he decides to never look me in the eye; if he chooses to just be there for Dylan—god, I hope he does—I’ll never be able to get over him.

He’s my beginning, my middle, and my end. Liam is not just part of my heart, heismy heart, and I will love that man until the day I die.

“We’re here,” Arthur announces.

“Thank you, for everything,” I say sincerely.

“Always,” he states. “I mean it, Willow. If you ever need someone…I’m a friend. Please don’t hesitate.”

I nod and smile. He seems pleased with my answer, getting out of the car and rounding it to open the door for me. I unbuckle my kid and transfer him to my neck, he stirs, slightly opening his eyes and automatically clutching my neck, burying his head in my chest. It tells me right away, it’ll be one of those nights, where we’ll only rest if we’re attached.

With a quick goodnight, I step into the darkened house, walking upstairs straight into my bedroom. I’m exhausted, and my eyes feel heavy but I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep that much.

The anxiety has lessened but I still see his face every time I close my eyes. He’s walking around, free to do whatever. Free to hurt other women and not pay for what he’s done or might do.

It’s unbelievably unfair to be blamed for something I didn’t want.

Why do we keep being the ones asking for it? Why are men able to get away with their actions, by blaming them on us?

This has to stop. Men need to be accountable for their actions and for what happens inside their minds.

I just hope, in my heart, that Liam sees me and understands I would never do what his parents accused me of. I just hope he sees the truth and believes me.

Because at this point, I don’t know if I could survive the world without him in my life.

FORTY-THREE

Willow

Iblinkthroughthepiercing bright light coming in through my bedroom window, reaching out for Dylan’s sleeping body. His absence brings me to consciousness way faster than is natural, and I sit up. He’s not here, and I hope Nana has already arrived to be with him downstairs. Otherwise, I’ll freak out.

“Dylan?” I call, expecting him to pop his head in from behind the door.

When he doesn’t, I panic, and without being able to think about anything else, I rush downstairs.

However, once I reach the ground floor, I’m rooted to the spot at the sound of hushed giggles coming from the kitchen. My body relaxes, recognizing my boy’s sounds anywhere.

“That’s disgusting,” Liam’s voice sounds, making me tense all over again.

He gags, and Dylan laughs louder. “It’s delicious,” he claims proudly. “Come on, try some more.”

It’s a quarter past seven. How is Liam here already?

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I peek through the kitchen door. The sight makes my heartbeat skyrocket. Dylan’s on Liam’s lap, trying to force him to taste a pancake with Nutella, syrup, and pineapple in the mix. It’s one of the things he loves to eat, even though it definitely is disgusting.

I’ve tried it and hated it, but hey, we all have a weird food combination we love—mine is chips with yoghurt.

Liam tastes it again, and his face contorts into a deep frown. It’s clearly visible how much he is not enjoying it.

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