Page 55 of Psycho

It felt incredibly unnatural to watch Peyton help Liv to her feet as I stood by idly, but it was obvious that she didn’t want me to touch her. Which fucking hurt.

Dane and Peyton lingered, adding to the unnatural feeling between us as Liv turned to face me. I tried to break the ice, “Can we talk?”

She didn’t answer right away but looked at the clock on the wall and sighed, “It’s getting late,” my heart sank into my gut as she glanced back up at me. Was she kicking me out? “Are you going home or back towork?”

The tone in her voice when she said work grated my nerves even further.

“We’re going home.” I replied, holding her stare, almost hoping she would challenge me on it.

“Okay.” She stated flippantly and gave her attention back to her sister. “Thanks for today.”

“Any time.” Peyton replied firmly and then grabbed a large tote bag off the floor. “Don’t forget your bag.”

I eyed the change of clothes and toiletries sat on top of the bag, like she wasn’t planning on coming home with me originally. Silently, we both walked out of Hartington, and even though she let me help her up into the truck, Liv didn’t speak.

Liv was chatty on a normal day, referencing movies or shows I knew nothing about, commenting on random bits and thoughts she had and making small talk constantly.

But as I drove back down the long driveway, she stared out ahead of us with her hands resting on her belly, rubbing them back and forth over it.

I didn’t know how to break the silence, but with each passing second, the rift felt bigger, like it was growing and making my skin boil under the pressure of breaking it.

Opening my mouth to blurt out something stupid, she beat me to it with an audible intake of breath as she leaned to the side.

“What?” I looked over at her as her brows pinched together in the middle. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a twinge.” She whispered like she couldn’t let her breath out normally while she pushed on a part of her stomach. “I think he’s pushing on my spleen.”

She had taken to calling the baby he or she intermittently like she was trying them on for size, even though she still refused to open the envelope and find out what she was carrying for sure.

“Can I?” I held my hand out, hovering over her stomach as I drove. I couldn’t remember the last time I asked to touch her and our baby, but at that moment, it felt appropriate.

She guided my hand onto her bump where the pain was coming from and instantly the baby flipped and rolled around, pressing against my palm. “I think I ate too much ice cream and now he has a sugar high.”

Glancing over at her as I drove down the road, a soft smile graced her lips as she peeked over at me. “Maybe.” I held my hand against her belly even after she dropped hers because I ached for the connection. “Tell me what I did wrong, Liv.”

She peeked over at me and sighed, readjusting herself in her seat, dislodging my hand. “You didn’t do anything, Madd.”

“Then why did you leave today without telling me? Why didn’t you take your phone?” I looked over at her as she stared up at me. “And why did you take clothes with you when you left?”

She swallowed and looked back out the windshield, chewing on her bottom lip before finally speaking. “I’m lonely.”

I scowled into the darkness, “Lonely?”

Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed her shrug, “Yeah, I spend a lot of time alone, Maddox. It tends to make people lonely. Especially people like me.”

“What does that mean? People like you?”

“People who like to be alone but want people around at the same time. We get lonely in the solitude we create around ourselves.”

“You sound like Dane.” I deadpanned as I tried to mull it all over. “But I guess that makes sense. It’s not like I leave because I want to—I’m working.”

“I know.” She agreed calmly, “Doesn’t mean the silence doesn’t get to me at times, though. Therefore, I called P and had a girls’ day.”

I tapped my thumb against the steering wheel in contemplation as we drove through the wilderness. “Were you mad at me when you left?”

She was silent for a second or two longer than I would have hoped, giving me my answer.

“Yes.” She admitted, “But I think most of it was just in my head, made up by the silence and the distance between us when I went to bed and when I woke up again.”

---