Page 55 of Liam
Liam continues, his words coming faster now. “Every decision, every action, it all had consequences. Not just for me but for my entire family. The weight of those responsibilities...” He trails off, running a hand through his hair.
“Is that why you left that night in the library?” The words escape me in a whisper, laden with years of uncertainty. “Did you feel like I wasn’t in your league?”
Liam’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. “What? Aleria, no. Of course not. Why would you think that?”
The raw disbelief in his voice catches me off guard. But before I can respond, our server materializes beside us, balancing plates laden with food.
“Double cheeseburger, extra pickles, no onions,” she announces, oblivious to the tension crackling between us like a live wire.
As she sets down our meals, I find myself frozen, caught in a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. Part of me is desperate to hear Liam’s answer, to finally understand what happened that night. But another part wants to flee, to retreat from this conversation that’s dredging up memories and feelings I’ve kept carefully buried for years.
The server leaves, and silence descends, heavy with unspoken words and years of misunderstandings. I pick up afry, more for something to do with my hands than out of any real hunger.
“You were saying?” I prompt, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. The words feel like glass in my throat, sharp and fragile.
“It was never about you, Aleria. You did nothing wrong. I was the fucked up one. I was the one who was too afraid…” He trails off, his gaze dropping to the table.
“Afraid of what?” I press, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. Years of hurt and confusion fuel my need to know.
He looks up, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes steals my breath. “Of feeling something real,” Liam whispers. “Of letting someone in. Of not being able to live up to the expectations everyone had for me.”
His words hang in the air between us, heavy with the weight of years lost. I want to understand, I really do. But the memory of that night in the library, of the crushing disappointment and humiliation, rises like a tidal wave.
I nod, a lump forming in my throat. Part of me wants to reach out, to offer comfort. But another part, the part still nursing old wounds, holds back.
“I understand,” I say, my voice quiet but steady. “But understanding doesn’t erase what happened, Liam. It doesn’t change the fact that you walked away without a word. That you left me feeling like I wasn’t good enough.”
Liam flinches. “Aleria, I’m so sorry. If I could go back?—”
I hold up a hand, stopping him. “But you can’t. And I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not sure I can be her again.”
The silence that follows is deafening. There’s a pain inLiam’s eyes, a desperate need to make things right. But there’s a chasm between us, carved by years of misunderstanding and unspoken truths. And I’m not sure if either of us knows how to bridge it.
“Where does this leave us?” Liam asks.
I take a deep breath, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m not ready to forgive you. Not yet. But I think I’m ready to try and understand. Can we be friends?” It’s not much, but it’s all I can offer right now.
Liam nods, a mix of relief and sadness in his eyes.
In that moment, something shifts between us. The carefully constructed walls we’ve both maintained for years crumble, revealing the people behind the titles and accolades.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m just waiting for everyone to realize I’m a fraud,” I confess, staring into my empty coffee cup. “Like any day now, they’ll figure out I don’t belong here and kick me out. Just like in college.”
Liam reaches across the table, his hand covering mine. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through me. “Aleria,” he says, my name sounding different on his lips, “you’re brilliant. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”
I look up, meeting his intense gaze. “What about you?” I ask. “What scares Liam Valeur?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his thumb absently tracing circles on the back of my hand. “Not living up to the Valeur legacy,” he finally says. “Failing to protect my family.”
There’s a weight to his words that I don’t fully understand, but I notice the burden he carries. My eyes flick to the man sitting at the counter—Liam’s ever-present bodyguard. Iwonder if his fear is related to whatever necessitates that constant protection.
Without thinking, I turn my hand over, intertwining our fingers. “You’re more than just your last name,” I tell him. “You’re...you’re Liam.”
His eyes meet mine, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths. For a heartbeat, the world around us fades away. It’s just us, connected by more than just our clasped hands.
The moment stretches, electric and fragile.
The spell is broken by our server, clearing her throat. We both start, realizing how late it’s gotten. As we prepare to leave, there’s a reluctance in both of us, neither quite ready for the night to end.
