Page 34 of Liam
“Successful evening, sir?” he asks.
I slide into the backseat, still grinning at my phone like an idiot. “You could say that, Marcus,” I reply, already planning my next witty retort to Aleria. “You could definitely say that.”
Chapter Ten
ALERIA
Istumble into my apartment, kicking off my torturous heels with a groan of relief after a long day at a conference. An official-looking envelope on the floor catches my eye, but I step over it, too exhausted to deal with what's likely another bill.
My cat, Schrödinger, watches me from his perch on the couch, tail swishing.
“Well, Schrödinger, I’d say that the conference was simultaneously a disaster and a success. Much like your namesake’s famous thought experiment.”
Schrödinger blinks at me, unimpressed.
I launch into a dramatic retelling of my evening, my hands painting pictures in the air. “I’m striding toward the podium, confidence oozing from every pore. My PowerPoint is primed, my data dazzling, and I’m about to blow their minds with my groundbreakingresearch.”
I pause for effect, and Schrödinger’s tail twitches in what I choose to interpret as anticipation.
“But then,” I continue, my voice dropping to a staged whisper, “disaster strikes. My heel catches on a non-existent wrinkle in the carpet. Time slows down. I’m falling, Schrödinger, falling in full view of the entire scientific community. My life flashes before my eyes. All those hours in the lab, all those missed parties, all leading to this moment of gravitational betrayal.”
I fling myself onto the couch, arm draped over my forehead. “I land in a heap of mortification and overpriced polyester right at the feet of Dr. Harriet Weinstein. You know, the one who wrote that scathing review of my last paper. The universe has a sick sense of humor, doesn’t it?”
Schrödinger meows, which I take as agreement.
“Can you believe it?” I ask, sitting up and locking eyes with my feline confidant. “Years of education, months of preparation, and I’m undone by my own feet. If there was ever proof that the universe is chaotic and uncaring, this was it.”
Schrödinger yawns, showing off his tiny fangs.
“I know, I know. It’s hardly surprising at this point.” I sigh, leaning back into the cushions. “But here’s the kicker. Liam was there.”
At the mention of Liam’s name, Schrödinger’s ears perk up. I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t tell me you’re on his side now. Traitor.”
My cat just blinks, so I continue my tale. “He was infuriating like always, strutting around like he owned the place. Which, okay, his company was sponsoring the event, but still!The nerve of that man, acting like a complete buffoon. Can you believe it?”
In response, Schrödinger stretches and hops off the couch, padding toward his food bowl.
“You’re right, of course I can believe it,” I mutter. “It’s Liam, after all.”
My gaze falls back to the envelope on the floor. With a resigned sigh, I bend to pick it up, the paper crisp between my fingers. The return address makes my stomach clench—it’s from the landlord.
“Great,” I mutter, tearing it open with more force than necessary. “Just what I need after today. Another?—”
My voice trails off as I scan the letter, eyes widening with each line. The paper trembles in my hand.
“Schrödinger,” I whisper, then louder, “You won’t believe this.”
My cat pauses mid-chew, looking at me with mild interest.
“The rent—they’re lowering it. All those letters I’ve been writing for months, they actually worked!”
I do a little dance in the middle of the living room, the letter clutched to my chest. Schrödinger watches, tail twitching, as I twirl past him.
“Do you know what this means?” I ask, kneeling to scratch behind his ears. “I won’t have to choose between paying the electric bill and sending money to Mom and Dad.”
Schrödinger purrs, rubbing against my hand.
“You’re right, buddy,” I say, grinning as I scoop him up for a celebratory cuddle. “Maybe the universe isn’t so chaotic and uncaring after all. Or at least, it’s chaos with a side of unexpected kindness.”
