Page 54 of Liam
We stand there for a moment, not sure what to do next. Part of me wants to suggest we call it a night, to retreat to the safety of professional distance. But a larger, louder part can’t bear the thought of this night ending.
Liam clears his throat. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Want to grab a late dinner? My treat.”
My head snaps up, surprise warring with an eager flutter in my stomach. Before I can overthink it, I blurt out, “I know just the place.”
Twenty minutes later, the neon sign of Stellar’s Diner casts a warm glow over us as we duck inside. The familiar scent of coffee and grilled onions wraps around me. We slide into a worn vinyl booth, our knees brushing underneath the table.
Liam’s eyes sweep over the diner, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “You know,” he says, his voice soft with nostalgia, “this place reminds me of those all-nighters we used to pull back in college.”
I freeze, my menu forgotten. We don’t talk about college. About the past. It’s an unspoken rule between us, carefully maintained since he became an investor in ASTRA.
But Liam continues, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Remember that little burger joint near campus? The one with the wonky neon sign that always flickered on the ‘E’?”
I nod, memories flooding back unbidden. Late nights hunched over textbooks, the smell of coffee and grease in the air, Liam’s laughter at my terrible physics puns.
“God, we practically lived there during finals week.” Liam chuckles. “You always ordered?—”
“The double cheeseburger with extra pickles and no onions,” we say in unison.
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I’m transported back. Back to when Liam was just a young man with messy hair and nerdy t-shirts, not the polished CEO he is now. Back to when I thought... Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.
“You remembered,” I say, surprise coloring my tone.
Liam’s expression softens, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. “I remember a lot of things, Aleria.”
Using my first name, so rare these days, sends a shiver down my spine. There’s a weight to his words, a depth of meaning I’m not sure I’m ready to explore.
As we wait for our food, Liam’s gaze turns thoughtful. “You know,” he says, “I’ve been thinking about what you told me the other day. About growing up in your parents’ auto shop.”
I nod, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest at the memory of our recent conversation.
“It got me wondering,” Liam continues, his blue eyes searching mine. “How come I never knew that about you in college? We spent so much time together, and yet...”
His words trail off, but the question hangs in the air between us. A flush creeps up my neck, part embarrassment, part something else I can’t quite name.
“I never told anyone back then,” I admit, my fingers tracing patterns on the worn Formica tabletop. “I was...ashamed, I guess.”
Liam’s brow furrows. “Ashamed? Of your parents?”
I shake my head. “No, not of them. Never of them. More of how I thought others would see me if they knew.” I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I was surrounded by trust fund kids and legacy admissions. And there I was, only there because of scholarships and student loans. My parents are brilliant, but they never finished high school. I was terrified that if people knew, they’d think I didn’t belong.”
Understanding dawns in Liam’s eyes, pursued by something that looks almost like regret. “I had no idea you felt that way.”
I shrug. “It’s silly, looking back on it now. But at the time, it felt so important to fit in, to prove I deserved to be there.”
Liam’s hand moves across the table, not quite touching mine, but close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “You more than deserved to be there,” he says, his voice low and intense. “You were the brightest student in that entire school.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, not sure what else to say.
Liam’s expression softens, a mix of emotions I can’t quite decipher playing across his features. “I wish I’d known,” he says. “Back then, I mean. I wish you’d felt like you could tell me.”
“Tell you? The Valeur heir who never had to struggle a day in his life?”
The words come out harsher than I intended, and Liamflinches. For a moment, I regret my outburst, but then a spark of defiance flares in his eyes.
“You think I didn’t struggle?” he says, his voice low and intense. “Maybe not with money, but do you have any idea what it’s like to have every step you take scrutinized and criticized? To never be able to be yourself?”
I open my mouth to retort, but something in his expression stops me. There’s a vulnerability there I’ve never seen before.
