The 90-Day Experiment (The Expiry Date Diaries #1)

Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Liam

I wrapped my hands around Gran's chipped coffee mug, letting the heat seep into me. The ceramic was almost too hot, but the burn felt good—felt real.

Something to focus on besides the hollow ache in my chest that hadn't let up since last night.

Gran's kitchen smelled like the usual battlefield of competing scents: tea and baking warring with the potpourri she'd been collecting since the Carter administration. Any other morning, it would have felt like coming home.

Now it just highlighted everything I'd lost, everything that had slipped through my fingers.

Gran's hand covered mine, her skin paper-thin but warm. Those eyes that had seen me through scraped knees and broken hearts were fixed on my face. "Tell me what happened, kid."

I swallowed hard, staring into the black coffee like it might hold some answers.

"I tried telling her how I felt. Really telling her." My laugh came out bitter. "She had this whole list of reasons why we couldn't be together. Age gap, professional ethics, some bullshit about protecting herself."

The words tasted like ash in my mouth. Gran squeezed my hand before standing up, her joints creaking softly as she moved. The familiar sound of a plate sliding across the worn counter preceded the appearance of her morning buns—the ones she'd been making since I was a kid.

"Sometimes," she said, settling back into her chair with that knowing look I'd never been able to hide anything from, "a little sweetness can help when things feel bitter."

I managed a weak smile, picking up one of the pastries. The first bite hit me with a wave of memories—Sunday mornings, failed tests, broken hearts. Gran's kitchen had always been my safe harbor.

"Tell me about her," Gran urged softly. "When did you first notice her?"

I leaned back in my chair, letting my head rest against the worn wood. "I don't even know. It wasn't like getting hit by lightning or anything. It was…”

I closed my eyes, seeing Emerson's face so clearly it hurt. "It was watching her work. The way she'd get so lost in what she was doing, like nothing else existed. Her whole face would change when she figured something out—like she'd solved some cosmic puzzle."

The pastry sat forgotten on my plate as the words spilled out. "She has this thing she does when she's reading—twirls this one piece of hair around her finger over and over. Probably doesn't even know she's doing it. And sometimes…” My voice dropped, the memory still fresh enough to sting. "Sometimes she'd forget to be Dr. Grant for a minute. Just be Emerson. And Christ, Gran, when she'd let that wall down…”

I trailed off, my throat tight. Because those moments—those rare, precious glimpses of the real Emerson beneath the lab coat and credentials—those were what had done me in. Those were what made walking away feel like cutting off a limb.

Gran mused, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. “She sounds like quite a woman.”

“She is,” I said, my heart twisting in my chest. “I thought maybe—hoped—she felt the same way.”

Gran murmured, a sound like gravel churning. “Sounds to me like she’s got a stick up her ass. Thought maybe a good shag would’ve sorted her out.”

“Gran!” I said, nearly choking on my coffee.

“What?” she shot back, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sometimes, people need a good old-fashioned roll in the hay to see things clearly.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her bluntness. “Trust me, Gran, that wasn’t the issue. Emerson was well and fully... uh, ‘shagged.’”

Gran grinned with a look of almost… pride? God help me.

“Good to know you can give a woman a good seeing-to. More important than one might think. So, what’s the problem then?”

“It’s more complicated than all that,” I said, sighing heavily.

She leaned in, her eyes narrowing with a sharpness that could cut steel. “Complicated, schmomplicated. You love her, right?”

I sighed, the truth of it weighing on my shoulders. “Yeah, I do. More than anything.”

“And does she love you?” she asked, her voice softer but still tinged with that no-nonsense edge that only Gran could pull off.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty. “One minute, it feels like she does, like she’s right there with me, and the next, she’s pushing me away.”

Gran snorted, her voice rough and unfiltered. “Sounds like the girl doesn’t know her ass from her elbow when it comes to feelings. You gotta lay it out for her, plain and simple. Just raw, honest-to-God truth.”

I nodded, the blunt simplicity of her advice hitting home in a way all my overthinking never had. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” she said, her face splitting into a proud grin. “Now, eat your damn pastry and stop moping around. Life’s too short to be hung up on what-ifs and maybes.”

I nodded again, absorbing her words.

Gran was right, as always. But that didn’t make the fear any less real. It sat there, a cold knot in my gut, gnawing away at me.

“What if Emerson doesn’t feel the same way?” My voice cracked, betraying the depth of my vulnerability.

Gran paused and stared at me, then tilted her head. “Tell me about one of your favorite moments with her,” she urged.

I sighed and closed my eyes, a million memories flashing through my mind before a small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

“There was this time, late one night in the lab, way before we started dating. We’d been grinding away for hours, and Emerson was getting more frustrated by the minute because the data wasn’t aligning with her hypothesis. She was pacing around with that fire in her eyes, so I suggested we take a break, maybe get some fresh air.”

Gran made a musing, agreeing sound. “Sometimes you need to breathe, not suffocate yourself with numbers.”

I nodded. “Exactly. So, we ended up on the roof of the building. The night was clear, and you could see every star in the sky. It was one of those perfect, crisp nights where the world feels like it’s buzzing with possibility.”

“Sounds like a scene straight out of a bloody romance novel,” Gran quipped, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“It kind of was,” I said, my smile widening. “Emerson started pointing out constellations, and her voice was filled with this childlike wonder. And for that brief moment, she wasn’t the serious scientist—she was just a woman marveling at the universe. So animated, so alive, and it was... intoxicating.”

Gran leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands. “And you just stood there like a dummy, didn’t you? Didn’t make a move?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Pretty much. I remember looking at her, the light reflecting in her eyes, and thinking she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I held back. I was afraid of ruining our work relationship. Our friendship.”

Gran rolled her eyes dramatically. “Men. Always so bloody scared of their own shadows. Did you ever think she might have wanted you to kiss her?”

I shook my head, regret washing over me like a cold wave. “I wish more than anything I’d taken that chance. I would have had so much more time with her.”

Gran leaned forward, her eyes showing me all her wisdom and love.

“You’re making my point for me, kid. You have to be brave enough to take that leap, to risk your heart for the chance at something really fucking great.” She smiled, her wrinkled face lighting up with fierce determination. “And if she doesn’t feel the same way, then it’s her bloody loss. But at least you’ll know.”

I couldn’t help but smile, her words lifting some of the heaviness from my heart.

“You’re right. I can’t give up without a fight. I need to try again, no matter the consequences.”

As I said the words out loud, a surge of determination coursed through me. The thought of walking away from Emerson without laying my heart fully on the line suddenly seemed impossible.

Gran reached out, squeezing my hand with surprising strength.

“That’s the spirit. Go to her, speak from your heart, and trust that love will find a way. And if it doesn’t, well, at least you’ll know you tried and won’t have to live with ‘what ifs’ bouncing around in your head.”

I took a deep breath and nodded, her words bolstering my resolve. “I’ve been too cautious, too afraid. But not anymore. No more holding back.”

“Atta boy,” she said, a proud grin spreading across her face. “Now go get your girl. And for God’s sake, if you find yourself on a rooftop under the stars again, don’t just stand there like a twit. Kiss the woman!”

I laughed, the sound echoing through the cozy kitchen. “You always know exactly what to say, Gran.”

She nodded. “Well, I’ve seen it all. Been around the block more times than I care to count. Now, get lost. And remember, confidence is what gets ‘em. Show her the real you.”

I stood, a new resolve surging through my veins. The fear was still there, lurking like an unwanted houseguest, but I looked at my grandmother with gratitude shining in my eyes. She had an uncanny way of cutting through the bullshit and getting right to the heart of things.

“I’m going to tell her everything,” I announced, my voice steady and clear, even though my heart was racing. “I’m done with this fucking fear.”

As I strode toward the door, my grandmother called out, “Liam?”

I turned back, my hand on the doorknob. “Yeah, Gran?”

Her eyes, usually full of mischief, were soft with affection.

“Remember, love isn’t just about grand gestures and passionate declarations. It’s about the little things too. The way you support each other, the laughter, the comfort you find in each other’s presence. Make sure Emerson knows it’s all of her you love—the scientist and the woman.”

Fucking mic drop, I thought, her words resonating deeply. “I will, Gran. Thank you.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Go on, then. And don’t come back until you’ve got a smile on your face and a hickey in an unmentionable place.”

“Jesus, Gran.” I laughed, shaking my head at her irreverence, but her words were the final push I needed.

With a final nod, I stepped out into the late morning sun, my heart pounding with anticipation.

The drive back to the lab felt like both an eternity and a blink of an eye. My mind swirled, rehearsing what I would say, how I would make her understand.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I took a deep breath, trying to ground myself in the moment.

“You got this,” I said lamely to myself, stepping out of the car. “It’s time to fight for what you want.”

With each step toward the lab, my courage grew. I thought of Emerson’s brilliance, her beauty, the way she challenged me and inspired me in equal measure.

I thought of the connection we’d built, the understanding that had grown between us. The soft sound of her voice when she talked about something she was passionate about.

And the way she looked at me sometimes, like I was the only person in the world who truly saw her.

Emerson wasn’t just any woman—she was the woman.

My woman.

And I was going to make damn sure she knew it.

With one final deep breath, I pushed open the door, ready to lay my heart on the line.