Page 27 of Return
Chapter9
The evening was endless,yet at the same time, no time at all had passed. Snowflakes swirled outside Liam’s large glass door, blanketing the ground in pristine white. Against the deep black of the night, the snowflakes shimmered like scattered glitter, though where the light came from, Sophie couldn’t say. It was a strange kind of magic, the way winter turned the world both quiet and luminous.
Inside, warmth cocooned her, the crackling fire in the hearth filled the space with a soft glow. It must have been hours since she found herself unexpectedly stranded here, but the initial awkwardness had quickly faded. After all, she and Liam had known each other forever. Once they’d talked a little and settled in, any lingering tension melted away like a snowflake on a warm palm.
Having finished their spaghetti—Liam was right, his delicious homemade sauce was indeed even better than before—they moved to the living room. Sophie sat on the plush carpet beside the warm hearthstone, her fingers curled around the glass of brandy she held, while Liam lounged comfortably on the sofa.
The fire crackled, sending flickering shadows dancing across the room as Sophie stretched out her legs, warmth seeping into her skin. A light haze of spirits softened the sharp edges of her thoughts, leaving her pleasantly buzzed, loose-limbed, and more than comfortable. It felt like old times, when she and Liam could talk for hours without effort, the weight of the years between them momentarily forgotten.
Her gaze drifted lazily over the room, tracing the familiar contours of his space—rugged, worn, lived-in. Then, her eyes landed on something across the room. A painting, half-hidden in the dim light, hung on the far wall. Something about it tugged at her, sent a pulse of curiosity through her chest.
She pushed up from the floor, steadying herself against the arm of the couch before crossing the room. As she stepped closer, the details sharpened. The subject was a woman—nude, her body half-turned, a cascade of dark hair spilling over her milky white shoulders. The brushstrokes were tender, reverent, the kind that spoke of familiarity. Of affection. Whoever she was, Liam had loved her deeply.
Sophie exhaled slowly, a peculiar tightness forming in her throat. She traced the delicate curve of the woman’s spine with her eyes, her stomach tightening further as recognition tickled at the edges of her mind. Then?—
Her breath caught.
A birthmark. Small, distinct. Nestled at the base of the woman’s back.
“Shit, Liam!” Sophie looked closely at the figure. She nearly spit out her brandy. She turned around with her mouth open. Liam hadn’t moved he was still lounging slumped down on the sofa. “When did you paint this?” Sophie swayed slightly, the room tilting for just a moment as realization settled in. Her heart stumbled. “Why?”
His lips parted like he might answer why, but he didn’t. He didn’t have to. In the low, flickering firelight, she saw it—the same thing she’d seen in the painting.
Love.
Undiminished.
Unwavering.
Waiting.
“About eight years ago,” he said into his glass before taking a sip.
She admired the painted contours again, this time with a drop of scrutiny. “You made me thinner than I was.”
“No, I didn’t,” he shot back. “That’s how you looked. Right down to that freckle on your bum.”
Sophie grinned. The young woman in the painting looked carefree, and beautiful, sexy.
These days, her panties look more like a bedsheet and her hair a bird’s nest.
She didn’t know what to say to such a testimony of affection. She returned to the sofa and sat down.
“It’s really beautiful, Liam.”
“Thanks. Obviously, I never thought you would see it.”
“Obviously.” A lingering silence hung in the air until Liam spoke up. “I was there you know…” he turned his head and met her eyes.
“Where?
“Your wedding.” He looked back to the fire.
“What? You were? But I didn’t see you.”
“I know.” He took the last swallow of his wine.
She thought back to that day. It was difficult to think of it as a happy day anymore but it had been. But it hadn’t been perfect because Liam wasn’t there. Sophie spoke in a smaller voice now. “I thought… I thought you hated me, for moving on.”
